


Evil Heartbreak Messenger

by Angel669



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boyband, Boys Kissing, Breaking Up & Making Up, Businessman Louis, Chronic Illness, Costumes, Falling In Love, Family Issues, Lawyer Liam, M/M, Mild Smut, Music, Past Relationship(s), Singing, Song: Night Changes, University Student Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3462506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel669/pseuds/Angel669
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry poured the fragrant, golden tea into two mismatched mugs. "So," he said with a grin, handing Louis his tea, "why are we breaking up again?"</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Beats me." Louis winked. "Maybe we could start over." He leaned forward to snag a cookie, which wasn't all that easy considering the dual handicap of his bottom-heavy costume and those quicksand pillows.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Hm. Maybe." A rosy blush crept over Harry's cheeks, matching his luscious lips. "But seriously, why did you call me a jerk, and what's with the outfit?"</i>
</p><p>*****

</p><p>Breaking up is hard to do...so hire someone else to do it for you! That's the motto of Louis's and Zayn's break-up agency, a business where they deliver these bad news for their clients. To sweeten the message, they wrap the words into a song and don animal costumes.</p><p>One day, Louis delivers a break-up to a student called Harry, who was unaware of even being in a relationship. Their immediate chemistry is undeniable, and Louis tries to recruit Harry for his business to see more of him. Unfortunately, Harry finds the business unromantic and doesn't want to play any part in promoting heartache...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evil Heartbreak Messenger

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to [Kara decisions-and-revisions](http://decisions-and-revisions.tumblr.com), the artist who made all the amazing banners for my story.
> 
> Thanks also to [Xenxan](http://xenxan.tumblr.com/) for your inspiring prompt. The idea behind the story came from this [Japanese Adidas commercial](http://youtu.be/repfLwivoWM), have a look, it's hilarious.

**(Prologue)**

Louis put the steaming mug of tea on the small table next to his mother and tugged her patched fleece blanket tighter around her shoulders. She always seemed cold these days, and tired. A side effect from the medication, the doctors said. And perhaps they were right. But Louis couldn't shake the ominous feeling that wrapped around his heart when he saw his mum so thin and fragile, like the last leaf on an autumn tree.

"I have to get to work now," he said. "But I left some cash under the sugar bowl. Have the girls run to the shop and get some food. The fridge's pretty empty. And maybe some fresh fruit, just for you," he added, contemplating her pale face.

His mum coughed and sat up straighter. "Fruit's too expensive. Lexi needs new boots. That's more important."

Louis wasn't sure he agreed, but didn't want to start a fight. In any case, Lexi did need new boots, her feet had grown two sizes since last year. And Lorelei needed a new bed--she wasn't a toddler anymore--and seventeen-year-old Liberty had more wants and needs than the Queen of England herself. In fact, she was giving him obtuse signals from the kitchen right this moment. Louis patted his mum's arm and joined his oldest sister in the tiny kitchen.

"Did you get them yet?" she whispered urgently. Her eye make-up shimmered in the dim light, and her platinum hair was piled on her head in a complicated way. Her elegant dress looked boutique-bought, but Liberty had been an expert on her mother's sewing machine for years. Cold city air enveloped her, and Louis realized that she must have just come in from a party.

"Did I get what?" he asked, a bit dazed. Lately he felt like he was constantly half a beat behind everybody else, like he was juggling tea trays full of China cups, and one wrong move would send them all crashing down on him.

Liberty clacked her long, purple nails on the table. "Our tickets." When he failed to respond, she rolled her eyes. "The concert tickets you promised us? To the Heart Infection charity concert in less than two weeks?"

"Right. Those tickets." Louis grew fidgety, eager to get out of the stiflingly small apartment. Away from the scrutinizing gaze of his sister.

"You didn't get them, did you? The girls will be upset. They've been looking forward to this for a long time."

Louis ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I said I'll get them, and I will, okay?"

She pulled her shiny lips into a pout. "Just don't leave it too late, all right? Or it will be all sold out."

Louis nodded grimly, his thoughts briefly travelling back in time. Being unable to get tickets for a Heart Infection concert would be the greatest irony of all. But the bitter truth was, he was flat broke. And concert tickets were neither needs nor wants. They fell under unaffordable luxuries. Then again, he'd never intended to buy them...

Parting in front of their apartment, Louis hugged his three sisters good bye. First Liberty, then Lexi, who kept up her chatter throughout, then he bent down to receive a gracious kiss from Princess Lorelei, who somehow always managed to transfer glitter from her sparkly tulle outfits into Louis's hair.

"Remember, you promised," Liberty called once more as Louis swung himself onto his sweet Yakoba 3000XL and tightened the strap on his helmet. He nodded back at her and waved. The skepticism in her eyes burned a bright gullet straight into his guts, but he couldn't even blame her. He wouldn't trust his own promises either, not anymore.

He started the engine and descended the spiraling ramp, then shot out into the brightly lit traffic of New London. Glad to be free for a while of the demands from the ladies in his life, he sped down the inter-twisted highways of the city. To him, a motorbike equaled freedom. A car would have been even better in some ways, but they were quite out of his price range, harder to park, and more conspicuous when you tried to be stealthy. The bike had come with his business when he had bought it nearly a year ago.

He revved the engine and took a turn towards the harbor. The Bridge of Silent Weeping, Zayn had said. Lots of space and millions of people passing by every day. Great opportunity as it just had been freshly painted. There it was! Louis nearly fell off the bike before he brought it to a squealing, dust-scattering stop, for no matter how much he already appreciated Zayn as an artist, this time he'd outdone himself in both scope and vibrancy of color.

Grinning, Louis fished out his phone to take a picture of the formerly plain cement structure, which now read in monster-sized, bright graffiti: NO SAD BIG SMILE BREAK-UP AGENCY.

 

 

**(1)**

A little later that night, Louis and Zayn met up in their little office, settling on the well-worn, saggy couch with mugs of steaming tea. Louis congratulated Zayn once again on his gorgeous graffiti.

"Hopefully that will help getting us more customers. In a city of twelve million people there really shouldn't be a shortage of break-ups. People just need to hear about us. I mean, nobody likes to break up with their partners, right? It's painful and awkward. And what do you do with jobs you don't want to do yourself?" He raised expectant eyebrows at Zayn.

"You hire someone else to do them?"

"Exactly." Louis nodded emphatically. "Us. We do it for them, make it easier on all parties involved." Louis thought the business idea was brilliant, a previously untapped market, with the potential to make a limitless amount of money. After all, just like death, heartbreak happened every day. Every hour even, probably. Not that Louis had the statistics handy, or anything. Really, he wasn't sure how they were still barely scraping by after nearly a year. They should be rolling in the dough by now. Oh well, more advertising should do the trick.

Zayn leaned forward, put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Don't you worry, mate. We'll be a success sooner or later."

"Yeah, I know, only I wish it was sooner rather than later. I'm short on cash."

"Have we still not paid that heating bill?" Zayn drew his eyebrows together. He always worried about his bearded dragon Bartholomew, whom he often brought to the office, getting cold.

"No." Louis sighed. "But I may have promised the girls tickets to the Heart Infection concert."

"You what?" Zayn's dark eyes flashed at him. "I can't believe they even want to go. And to ask you for tickets--the nerve!"

Warmth spread through Louis's insides at Zayn's unwavering loyalty. But his eyes stung. Secretly, he had had the same thoughts about his sisters. Out loud he said, "Nah, all girls are crazy about Heart Infection these days. You can't blame them. Their four faces are on posters on their walls, and on their bed sheets, and on their socks, and their mugs and schoolbooks and..."

"Yeah, okay," Zayn interrupted gently. "I've seen that crap in the shops, mate, I know what you mean." He scrutinized Louis's face for another long moment, then he nodded. "So Nick and his gang are back in town, yeah?"

Louis tapped the edge of the coffee table. "They've been back since their world tour ended last week. They're just doing the LondonDome concert for a charity event." Louis sincerely hoped Zayn wouldn't notice how well versed he was with the band's schedule. He really shouldn't give a rat's ass when and where they were playing.

"So, are you going to see him?" Zayn narrowed his eyes as if a laser gaze could force an honest answer out of Louis.

"See who?" It was a rather unconvincing squeak, even to Louis's own ears.

"Nick. Nick Grimshaw, singer of Heart Infection. Your ex?"

Louis's fingers tapped faster, along with his heart. "I'd rather ride my bike off the New London Bridge, and you know how much I love that bike."

Zayn smirked a bit. "True, you love that bike. But you've never talked to Nick again, right? After that, uhm, incident...that night."

"You mean," Louis said, voice now turning vicious, "the time I found Nick in our bed, with my best mate Ben? That little incident?"

"Uhm, yeah, I guess. That one."

"No, I haven't, and I don't think I want to. In any case, it's been ages, and I've moved on."

"Right." Zayn nodded again, an unreadable look on his face. "Right."

***

Louis and Zayn were shoveling reheated take-away ramen noodles with Sriracha sauce into their mouths when the wall screen rang. Louis quickly choked down his food and got out a semi-intelligible 'allo. The wall screen, which covered most of the wall behind the wobbly ply-wood computer desk, stayed dark due to the widening crack snaking diagonally from one corner to another (a reminder that it was a very bad idea to play games like catch-the-ceramic-lucky-cat inside a very small office. Especially when you lacked the funds to replace your wall screen.) The speakers, however, still worked, and the posh nasal voice of a young lady of New London's upper crust rang out.

Zayn grabbed the headset and dug a notepad out of the mess of take-away menus, bills and flyers scattered over the coffee table in front of them.

Louis got up, stretched and then gingerly made his way over upturned waste baskets, around piles of clothes and under the ladder Zayn had used in his graffiti painting efforts, until he reached the small closet by the entrance. Former businesses must have used it for their employees' or customers' hats and coats, but Louis kept his costumes here. With a grimace, he began to sort through them. If he could deliver this break-up tonight, he'd still be on time for paying the gas bill before their heat would be turned off. Fall in New London could get pretty chilly, although it wouldn't be the first time for Zayn and him to hang around the office wearing three layers of clothes.

Even though the costume closet was too full for the doors to shut, Louis knew his choice was limited. Not being much domestically inclined, he had hoped Zayn would pick up his slack in the areas of costume washing and mending, but no such luck.

"All right," Zayn said into his headset's mic, checking his notes. "So, to summarize your order, your lucky ex-to-be's name is Harry, you're pissed because he never texts or calls, and he lives in apartment 4a, 12078 Petunia Avenue, in the 48th district. Any special requests for a costume?"

Louis waved his arms to get Zayn's attention and wildly shook his head.

Zayn gave him a rather blank look. "A what? A porcupine? Because he's cute, but he hurt you...okay, I get it." He rolled his eyes at Louis and shrugged. "That's pretty specific, miss, but we'll see what we can do."

"A fucking porcupine?" Louis shouted, once Zayn had disconnected the call. "You know bloody well we don't have a porcupine. Why would we even have a porcupine? Who has porcupines? I don't even think they make porcupine costumes..."

"Calm down." Zayn approached the closet with his usual Zen-like calm and patted Louis's back. "We'll improvise. After all, that's what we do best."

Louis stared into his closet, a defiant look on his face. "We don't have anything remotely like a porcupine."

"Not true," Zayn objected, pulling a furry black and white garment forward. "What about the panda? He's fuzzy and cute. Everybody loves the panda."

"Well, yeah. But look here..." Louis turned the fabric in Zayn's hands, pointing to a foot-long gash near the stubby tail. "Remember I told you about that crazy guy I delivered to last week? The one who chased me all around Noragami Plaza?"

Zayn rubbed the stubble on his chin and nodded. "Oh yeah. A bit embarrassing, wasn't it? But that'll teach you not to try parkour in a panda suit."

Louis made a rather rude gesture, but Zayn just laughed. "What else do we have that's cute and fluffy?" Zayn's hands slid along the hangers. "I know, the bunny. That's nearly as good as the panda." He pulled out a shaggy grey costume. There was a moment of complete silence as both boys contemplated the matted fur, the brown splotches below the knees, the one ear hanging on only a couple of threads.

"This was a white rabbit once, you know," Louis said gravely.

"No joke?" With a sigh, Zayn dropped the rabbit. His face now resigned, he squinted at the costumes. "I don't suppose we could use SpongeBob..."

"I've got it." Louis jumped around Zayn and burrowed into the depths of the closet, to return triumphantly a moment later with an orange and purple creation. "The squangaroo!"

The squangaroo was one of their oldest costumes; an orange kangaroo with a purple squid glued to its back, tentacles wriggling loosely on both sides. Its likeness was based on the main character of an anime, which had quickly spiked in popularity, only to just as fast sink into pop culture's swamp of has-beens.

"We haven't used that one in ages," Zayn said with a chuckle. "But it's perfect, really: it's cute, but it can get dangerous and hurt you with a kick of its strong legs."

Louis's lips quirked into a grin. "Just like our dude Harry."

 

 

**(2)**

Harry lived on the other side of town, in the prosperous north-west quadrant of New London. Louis bypassed the busy downtown area by taking the elevated zoomway, which looped high over the city with eight lanes in each direction. It slashed a long, brightly lit hook over the relative darkness of the grimy 56th district of Louis's home, weaving around its towering Ultrablocks - government-funded tenements holding as many citizens as the LondonDome in small-budget rabbit warrens - and through its smoky damp air, until it narrowed out to a meagre five lanes in the University district. NLU stretched on for the next eleven exits, during which Louis wondered what life would be like had he been able to afford higher learning. Would he have been smart enough to graduate, or ended up a drop-out with unpayable debts to the government? Drop-out, Louis decided. Success clearly was meant for other people.

Louis's GPS-enabled helmet fed him directions at steady intervals. His turn-off came soon after the vast campus, in the quaint 48th district called Hazel Meadows. Of course, this still being too near the heart of New London, there were no meadows here, but the city landscaping included fenced trees and tiny, but well-tended parks. After a childhood spent around graphitized cement and vandalized, rusty play-ground equipment, Louis found the tidy prettiness of Petunia Avenue almost eerie.

Soon he stood in front of Harry's apartment building, his precious motorbike chained to a lamppost. In the elegant lobby, he quickly pulled on his costume, pretending to ignore the funny looks he got from a young couple passing by, and went over the lyrics Zayn had scribbled on a piece of paper for him. Zayn had a great talent for lyrics, when given enough time, but this one had been clobbered together from a song they had used previously for another client. As a matter of fact, they often recycled their songs, because realistically, there were only a handful original reasons why people broke up: Jealousy. Boredom. Disappointment. Incompatibility. Found someone better. Found someone with more money. Fed up with the other's inability to change. Well, Louis wasn't complaining. It made his life easier.

After a smooth, quick ride in a meticulously clean elevator, Louis knocked on door 4b. A young man, about twenty years old, with shoulder-length curly hair held back by a purple bandanna opened the door.

"Harry?" Louis asked, and when he got a nod in return, he shimmied around in his bulky costume and broke into song.

"Baby I thought that we'd be the best couple yet  
The way that you smiled made my heart insane

But when you don't text or call it ain't hard to tell  
You don't know oh oh

You don't know you're such a jerk

If only you could be a nicer guy  
Who rings me up, takes me out, acts so caringly

Right now I'm thinking of you and I can't believe  
You don't know, oh oh  
You don't know you're such a jerk, oh oh

That's what makes you such a jerk!"

After a quick flourish, Louis tap danced in place in front of a startled looking Harry, adding the cheerful chorus for good measure. "Na na na na na na..."

Harry shook his head until his eyes became more focused. "Hang on, Captain Kangaroo," he said as he laid a hand on Louis's arm. Louis became still, eyeing Harry warily. Being touched by targets wasn't generally a good thing. Especially if you had just insulted them. On the other hand, Harry didn't look the violent type.

"Uhm," Harry said, bewildered. Then his mouth curved into a wide smile. "Is this some kind of prank?" He glanced around as if searching for a hidden camera.

"No, no." Louis pushed back his kangaroo hood. He was beginning to get overheated in the thick costume. "I'm just breaking up with you."

"Ah." Harry, leaning against the door jamb, crossed his arms and gave Louis an unreadable look. "Why don't you come in for a cup of tea?"

Louis shrugged. Another first. Most people at the receiving end of a break-up chased him off their property. But he was thirsty, and besides...he'd like to find out if that gorgeous emerald of Harry's eyes was his natural colour.

The inside of Harry's small apartment smelled of cinnamon and fall apples, reminding Louis of helping his grandma in her kitchen when he was small. There were lots of green potted plants on shelves and on the floor, and vibrant art hung on the walls. As he sank onto a couch, Louis got nearly swallowed by scarlet satin-covered pillows. Harry left him for a moment, but soon returned with a tray of tea things and fresh baked cookies. _Who'd break up with a guy that bakes?_ Louis thought. _Big mistake girl, big mistake._

Harry poured the fragrant, golden tea into two mismatched mugs. "So," he said with a grin, handing Louis his tea, "why are we breaking up again?"

"Beats me." Louis winked. "Maybe we could start over." He leaned forward to snag a cookie, which wasn't all that easy considering the dual handicap of his bottom-heavy costume and those quicksand pillows.

"Hm. Maybe." A rosy blush crept over Harry's cheeks, matching his luscious lips. "But seriously, why did you call me a jerk, and what's with the outfit?"

Louis held up a finger, still chewing. "Mm, delicious," he said when done. Then he extracted his order sheet from a pocket in his squangaroo suit and handed it to Harry.

"I'm with No Sad Big Smile, the break-up agency?" Louis waited for Harry to recognize the name, but the curly-haired boy just shook his head. Louis sighed. Clearly they still needed to work on their advertising strategy. "So, your girl-friend hired us to break up with you. She's the one who thinks you're a jerk.

Harry frowned harder. "But I don't have a girl-friend, mate. I'm not even into girls all that much, to tell you the truth."

"Oh?" Louis couldn't hide a happy grin. _Interesting_. "But who's this girl then?" He pointed at the order form. "Tinkerbell Cunningham-Jones, from Springblossom Hills. Seems to me a name like that wouldn't be all that easy to forget."

Harry scratched his thick, wild mane, making Louis wonder what it would feel like to run his fingers through those springy curls. "Oh, now I remember!" he said finally. He drummed his fingers on the low table. "Yeah, at that party, at that guy's house...what's his name....anyway, I was at least half sloshed, and we were just hanging out for a while, talking." He shrugged. "That's all. I never saw her again."

Louis gave him a skeptical smirk. "You only hung out," he repeated in a doubt-laden tone. "And talked."

Harry nodded, all wide-eyed innocence.

Louis sighed. "You probably even listened to her...like, like she was the only other person at that party with you."

"Well, I didn't interrupt her, if that's what you mean," Harry mumbled. "Been raised better than that."

"Of course." Louis flashed him a dazzling smile. "Did you touch her casually at any time, like on her arm or knee...?"

Harry glowered, his hands twining around each other. "I don't remember touching her. Although..." His expression softened, his gaze distant. "When she told me that her dog had died, I gave her a big hug." After a rather defiant glance at Louis he added, "Anyone would have done that!"

Louis grimaced and nodded. "Possibly. Did you dance with her?"

"Yes, to take her mind off her dog. What else could I have done?"

"No, no, absolutely." But Louis had to violently suppress an eye roll. Some people were just too nice for their own good. "I don't suppose you left the party with her?"

Now Harry looked a bit sheepish. "Only because I walked her home. I wanted to make sure she didn't get mugged."

"Mugged? In Springblossom Hills? Harry!" Louis frustration levels were reaching a new high. "And let me guess: then you stayed the night so she wouldn't have to worry about monsters under her bed?"

"I only slept in her family's guest house." Harry smiled at the memory. "In the morning, I played a round of golf with her Dad, then helped her Mom and little sister make buttermilk pancakes. With fresh blueberries!"

"Argh!" Louis pulled on his hair. This boy was un-be-lieve-able. "No wonder she's mad! Her whole family has already planned the wedding, no doubt. How can you be so clueless?"

Harry pouted, which instantly turned Louis's irritation into glowing desire. "Ah, well, never mind." He leaned forward and patted Harry's knee. "She dumped you anyway, that old cow. But you're better off without her."

"Yeah, and how's that?" The dimple in Harry's cheek got deeper as he smiled. _So cute._ Louis could have easily wrapped him up and taken him home, right then and there. But even easy-going Harry might have taken offence to that.

"Well, without Tinklebottom High-Almighty you can date someone much better, and also, hey, I just had a great idea! Can you sing?"

"Um, yeah, a bit, I guess." Harry gave him a confused look. "Why?"

Louis smiled. A surge of excitement made his legs tingle. Or maybe the squangaroo suit was cutting off the blood supply to his legs. "I'm sure you're a great singer. You're just modest. See, we could use another employee at No Sad. Business is booming, and we're ready to expand."

  
This was not strictly true. Or, rather, not true at all. Wishful thinking was probably the best term for it. But Louis had a sudden flash of insight telling him that business couldn't help but improve with Harry on board. Plus, he really wanted to get to know Harry better.

But Harry frowned. "No offence, but I don't think that's the right kind of job for me. Breaking up couples, delivering horrible news, day after day..."

Well, put like that, it did sound quite depressing. With a groan, Louis scrambled up from the couch. "We try to make it fun and light, you know, with the singing, and adorable costumes..."

"Yes, but breaking up is not fun and light, it's a serious and unhappy time for most people. And you facilitate this, this...heartbreak." Harry rose now as well, eyes gleaming wetly. "It's just not right, mate."

Louis barely kept his jaw from dropping. This Harry dude was definitely unpredictable. Quirkily so. Before he had a chance to defend his business, they stood at the open apartment door. "If you change your mind," Louis said, giving Harry his best puppy dog face, "our contact info is on that order sheet."

Out on the street, Louis kicked the lamppost securing his bike. So stupid. For a moment there he had really thought that he and Harry had connected, and immediately he had let his mind get carried away, sketching out a happy future with a cute, adorable boyfriend by his side. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he learn that relationships never worked out that way?

Louis stuffed the squangaroo suit into his backpack and jumped on his bike. The rumble of the engine vibrated through his legs and groin as he pulled into the quiet street. The familiar sensation of his bike underneath him and the cool city air infiltrating his helmet, smelling of wet asphalt and rotting leaves, calmed his nerves and unknotted the tension in his stomach. But he couldn't shake a permeating sense of despair. Because Harry was right, of course. Breaking up was always horrible, soul-crushing heartache. And who should know this better than Louis himself?

The night rushed past him, with its flashy neon lights and quiet beads of street lamps. He returned to the zoomway on autopilot. Instead of the shiny city landscape of the outskirts of New London, he saw himself, younger and more naïve, walking up the narrow staircase to the apartment he used to share with Nick Grimshaw, his band mate and boyfriend since high school. He carried a bottle of red wine, cheap but tasty, to celebrate finishing the demo recording of their first album. Louis was proud of his own contribution. He had co-written a third of the songs with Nick, played guitar and sang backup on most of them. Every one of their four members had done well, and Nick's throaty voice sounded better than ever. Louis was so sure they'd get picked up by a label now. After five long years of working hard and building up a small but dedicated fan base in the clubs of New London's alternative scene, they deserved some success. They needed it. And Louis could almost taste it.

Louis quickened his steps, eager to see Nick. He unlocked the door and walked down the dingy corridor. His memory slowed down time, highlighted details forever burned into his mind. The garish orange pattern in the old carpet. The odd mix of smells wafting up from the NL-fusion restaurant downstairs: fish and chips, and deep-fried wasabi. The sounds pouring from under the closed bedroom door, lustful moans, and the painfully familiar squeak of bed springs. The cold metal of the doorknob under his palm. The eternal second where he contemplated turning around and running from the poisonous knowledge that had already seeped into his mind.

But in the end, you could only move forwards, no matter how much you might wish to turn back time. Louis had opened the door and walked into the bedroom. Their bedroom. Their bed, often made fun of for its saggy mattress and creaky springs. Yet it had been such a happy place for Louis. But not now, not ever again. Not when Nick's long, naked shape moved above another person, eagerly, and accompanied by much panting, jamming himself into someone who wasn't Louis, his pale butt jiggling obscenely. Not when that other person was their drummer Ben, Louis's best friend since forever.

Louis stood in the room, lost in the shocking sight and sounds, for an indeterminable amount of time. Absurdly, they noisily kept going, didn't even notice him, all wrapped up in their passion. Louis breathing became shallow, and the colors around him lost their brightness. The situation was such a cliché, Louis was certain there must be a scripted action for him to follow, but if there was, he couldn't recall it. Should he cough to make himself known? Ridiculous, it was ridiculous and pathetic, and he should just leave them at it, because what was there to say now? Within only a handful of minutes, they had destroyed Louis's two most important relationships, had sullied years and years of happy memories. And why? For a stolen moment of lust, or was there more between them? Louis found he couldn't care. Inside and out, he was suddenly numb, paralyzed, frozen. And not just his body. His brain rambled on in sentences without proper endings, his vision had become dark and narrow, even the sounds from the bed, repulsive in their power to hurt muffled until they were as distant and inconsequential as a TV playing in another room.

Louis slowly turned and left the way he had come, holding on to the railing on the stairs like a blind man, robbed of his future.

 

 

**(3)**

 

Back at the office, Zayn had some bad news.

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?" Louis asked. After that disaster with Harry, and his gloomy mental visit to his past, he wasn't sure how much more he could handle in a day.

"Is this some kind of game?" Zayn snuggled Bartholomew, his bearded dragon, tighter into the hollow of his throat. "Bad news is bad news. How can I rate it when I don't know how bad it's going to turn out to be?"

Louis took the squangaroo suit from his backpack and threw it on the heap of costumes to be laundered. "Obviously I know you're not a fortune teller. I don't want the number for potential badness of this news of yours, or the maximum number it will reach at some future point. Just the momentary number. Like, how bad is it right now, this minute, as we stand here."

"Who's the best Bartholomew? Who? Who?" Zayn kissed his lizard's nose, then put him back on his chest. He sighed. "Right now? It's zero. Nothing bad has happened yet."

Louis sank onto the lounge chair across from Zayn and groaned. Some days it was such hard work to get a straight word out of his friend. Then the bell over the entrance jingled, alerting them to a customer. Louis swore under his breath. The office was much too messy for walk-in traffic. And why anyone should come to the store was a mystery, when they could be reached by vid phone, fax, email, all current social media, and even the New London Postal Service, such as it was.

"No worries, mate," Zayn said. "That's just the lawyer I called. He was the cheapest one I could find on short notice." He rose and shook hands with a young man wearing a long, maroon trench-coat, who gave Bartholomew, still clinging to Zayn's chest, a doubtful glance.

"Liam Payne," he said, "we spoke on the phone." Zayn introduced Louis and put on a fresh pot of tea. After Louis swiped the mess off their coffee table and not-so-discretely stowed it underneath, and Liam and Zayn had both settled on the couch, the lawyer pulled out a yellow legal pad and gave Zayn an expectant nod. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well," Zayn began, "a client called this morning. We broke up with his girl-friend last week." He turned to Louis. "Max Pyke is his name, and I was wearing the ninja turtle suit?"

Louis shrugged. "Doesn't ring a bell. What about it?"

"Her name is Eleanor. Pretty young girl with long, brown hair, nice clothes...she sure wouldn't have a problem finding someone new." Zayn took a sip of his tea. "Which I hope she hasn't, because now he's changed his mind and wants her back. Says it's the biggest mistake he ever made, love of his life, and all that shit."

Liam looked up from his notes. "So you offer him a refund, or a promo coupon, or something. You must have had complaints before."

"Not really," Louis said, even though Liam had spoken only to Zayn so far. Hardly tore his eyes off him even now. Louis cleared his throat. "Not from our clients, anyway. The people we deliver to, the targets, as we call them, they're often quite upset. But that's just the nature of our business, and frankly not our concern."

"And I did offer him a refund," Zayn added, giving Louis an apologetic look. "I know we can't really afford to, but he was yelling at me. But Pyke turned it down, said he wants us to fix it, or he'll sue our asses off."

"Fix it?" Louis voice rose a notch. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Get him back together with his girl. Only he already tried on his own, and she doesn't want him back. Can't really blame her either, with that kind of temper."

"He can't sue us, though, can he?" Louis was outraged. "It's not our fault if he can't make up his mind. We did what we were hired to do. Promptly and properly."

"True," Liam gave Louis a quick nod, before turning his attention back to Zayn. "But these days people sue for all kinds of ridiculous reasons. I agree that most likely this guy doesn't have a case, but it might take you some time and money before the courts dismiss his claim." Liam uneasily glanced around the tiny, cluttered office. "Can you afford that?"

"Not really," Louis said, even though it pained him to admit it. "But I doubt we have much choice, unless we can talk Pyke out of it. I mean, we can't force his ex to take him back. And we don't do match-making."

"Well." Liam stuffed his note pad into his leather satchel and got up. "You might want to give it a try, anyway. It would be the cheapest way out of this mess. In the meantime, I'll look into the legal side, see what your rights are, if there's a precedent for this type of suit, and such." He shook hands with Louis, then with Zayn, holding his hand for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary. "The two of us should meet Friday night for dinner, to discuss the case more thoroughly. I'll text you the details."

After the door closed behind Liam with a jingle, Zayn gave Louis a bemused look. Louis rolled his eyes. "At least one of us has a date this weekend. I'll be working, I guess. I still need the money for my sisters' concert tickets."

 

 

**(4)**

 

The rest of the week went by rather uneventfully. Louis finally got the dirty costumes washed, and even talked his oldest sister Liberty into mending a couple of the ripped ones. She returned them to No Sad's office shortly before closing time on Friday. Louis had already sent Zayn home to get changed for his big date with Liam. He realized it was shallow, but he sort of hoped that Zayn could butter Liam up enough to lower his hourly rate, or better still, waive it entirely.

Liberty had just hung up the good-as-new panda suit, when the front door was thrown open so violently, it almost smashed her in the head. With a yelp, she leaped out of the way of the client, who stopped abruptly when he saw her.

Louis jumped off the couch where he had been checking his messages, and yelled, "Niall! Don't talk to her! Don't look at her! In fact, forget you've ever seen her." Approaching his customer, he waved his hands around as if trying to hypnotize him.

Niall grinned at Liberty, showing off flawless white teeth. "But why shouldn't I? I haven't seen a girl this pretty in ages."

Louis squeezed himself into the space between Niall and Liberty. He usually managed to be polite to his clients, but he had known Niall for quite some time now, and broken up for him on countless occasions. In fact, Louis and Zayn had named a promotion after him: the infamous Niall-Discount. If you broke up with three girls in one month, the third break-up was free. So far, Niall had been the only customer who had ever qualified for that discount. No way in hell would Louis let Niall anywhere near his innocent sisters.

"She's not really all that pretty," he snarled. "Hair color: cheap drugstore dye, eyes: colored contacts, boobs: padded bra..." With an ear-bursting shriek Liberty jumped onto her brother's back and wrapped her arms around his neck in a choke hold.

Gurgling, Louis pushed her back into the wall, trying to free himself. Any minute now he'd pass out from lack of oxygen. Liberty's overpowering perfume did nothing to help the matter. Niall only laughed. Apparently he didn't know that the wrath of the Tomlinson girls was by no means a laughing matter.

"I'm just kidding," Louis choked out when Liberty loosened her hold. "I'm very sorry, I didn't mean it." He managed to slip out of her grasp and dodged behind an arm chair from where he watched her with narrowed eyes. "So, what can I do for Niall today," he said, without shifting his gaze from his sister, who ignored him. She straightened her skirt and threw her blonde locks over her shoulder. There clearly was no helping this girl. Louis's temper boiled inwardly. Maybe he should just let her become Niall's next victim, if only to teach her a lesson. But the moment he imagined his sister sobbing and heart-broken, Louis's anger vaporized. No matter how obnoxious Libby could be, he'd never let her get hurt, not on his watch.

Niall took a break from flirting to drop onto the saggy couch. He covered his eyes and groaned. "I made a big mistake, Louis," he whined. "A humongoid, ginormous mistake."

"Does this involve another girl?" Louis asked, already sure of the answer. Niall could be so predictable.

"Yes." Niall kept his arm over his eyes. "I thought she was really special. But it turns out she's just a special pain in the ass."

Louis quietly calculated how long it had been since No Sad had last broken up for Niall. It seemed like just yesterday. He glanced at Liberty, who silently lingered at the door, eyes huge. Usually Louis would be more concerned about client confidentiality, but this was only Niall, plus it served him right for flirting with her.

"Well, how long have you been seeing her?" he asked Niall. Couldn't have been more than two weeks tops, unless...but no, he had never known Niall to date more than one girl at a time. After all, you had to have some standards.

"Six days," Niall groaned from the couch. His voice was hoarse and his body strangely lifeless.

"Wow." Louis smirked at Liberty. "Six days...must be a new record."

"Six extra-long days, though," Niall said. "Sure felt more like six weeks." He sounded quite sorry for himself. "Do I get a discount?"

Louis rested his head on the back of the arm chair and sighed. "Please don't tell me you're breaking up with these girls at hell-raising speed to get a fucking discount! Are you?" His voice had become loud and Niall sat up, startled.

"No!" he said. "No, that's ridiculous. I'm just really unlucky with girls, okay?" Niall clutched a grungy pillow to his chest as if it could shield him from his bad luck.

"Maybe you should give boys a try then." Louis winked. He knew it wasn't Niall's cup of tea, but he couldn't help himself. He turned to Liberty, who was leaning against the door, staring through the mottled glass. "Shouldn't you be getting home?"

She shrugged. "I was waiting for that mob to clear out, but it looks like there are still more people coming."

"Mob? What mob?" Louis tried to see through the thick glass, but all he could make out were indistinct, moving shapes. People, no doubt. But it was a sidewalk. Impatient, Louis opened the door and stepped outside. Mob still was a bit strong a word, but there were definitely a bunch of people gathered in front of his building. They all seemed to know each other, chatting in smaller clusters and noisily greeting new arrivals.

"Just some kind of block party," Louis said. Liberty stepped next to Louis, a doubtful expression clouding her face. Niall appeared in the doorway behind her.

"A party?" he said, glancing around hopefully. "But where's the beer?"

"Guys," Liberty said. "That's not a party. Look!" She pointed at a young man holding up a large piece of poster board on a stick. "It's a demonstration."

"What does it say?" Louis squinted at the sign, which was hard to read as the guy had begun waving it around wildly, yelling, "Hoi, hoi, hoi."

"Down with heartbreak." Liberty choked on a giggle. "And that one over there says, 'You can work it out.' Oh, bro, I believe they are protesting against your shop."

 

 

  **(5)**

 

Hot rage tightened Louis fists and twisted his insides. What was wrong with people? Didn't they have anything better to do than complain? He stormed into the masses, ready to battle, when he spied Harry out of the corner of his eye. He was crouched on the ground, helping to unfurl a banner. He wore a checkered shirt over black skinny jeans and had his hair up in a curly bun. Louis's heart did an odd hop and skip as Harry straightened up and walked toward Louis with a huge smile on his face.

"Hiiiii!" Harry took Louis's hand and shook it, while Louis still tried to command his blood back to his brain, where he could use it right now. "I hope you don't mind," Harry continued, "I told my friends at Uni about your business, and a bunch of us decided to come out and protest."

"No, why would I mind?" Even for Harry Louis couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice entirely. Sure, people always said all publicity was good publicity, but Louis failed to see how this could possibly be good for his tiny, floundering business.

Harry leaned closer until his face was only a couple of inches from Louis's and said quietly, "Don't worry, we won't egg your windows, or anything. We're pacifists."

No Sad Big Smile didn't have any windows, so Louis's attention focused less on Harry's words and more on his breath warming Louis's face, and how kissable and soft his lips looked. Louis might have acted on that thought, but then a small hand clasped his arm, and Liberty shouted, "I called the police. They'll be here in five."

The students muttered and mumbled among themselves. Louis shot Liberty an irritated glance. "You should have talked to me first. There was no need to involve the police."

"Whatever." Liberty narrowed her eyes and gripped her purse a little tighter. "I'm going home."

"Libby..." Already her heels clacked down the sidewalk, where the students reluctantly packed up their signs. A wave of guilt surged through Louis. He shouldn't have snapped at Liberty when she had only tried to help. At the sound of sirens in the distance, the demonstrators dispersed quickly. Harry turned to leave as well.

"Wait." Louis was unsure. There was something about Harry that made Louis desperate to show him that he was not an insensitive jerk who broke up loving couples just for the hell of it. But then again, why should he bother, when the one thing his job had taught him was that romance never lasted--when Louis knew firsthand how it ended every single time?

"Yeah?" Harry's smile was hopeful and trusting. His eyes...wide, sparkling, and so very green made Louis's breath hitch. He nervously licked his lips.

"Can I speak to you for a moment?" He gestured towards his shop's door, which still stood wide open. Harry nodded, and they went inside together.

Harry glanced around, his forehead wrinkled. "This is your agency?"

Heat rushed into Louis's face. If he had known Harry would come by, he'd have cleaned up, made the place more presentable. Now it was too late. Louis shrugged. "We've only been in business for a year and can't afford reception and cleaning staff yet. But we will, eventually."

Harry crinkled his nose. "So it's all about the money for you, yeah? I see." He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest.

Louis realized his mistake and quickly changed course. "As you can see, I'm clearly not rolling in the dough, so how could it be about money?"

Harry gave him a rather sinister look. "I guess if you're not concerned about money, it means you picked this business because you like ruining people's lives."

Louis bounced on his toes with repressed emotion. This wasn't going at all the way he had hoped. "That's just not true, Harry!" His voice became hoarse. He didn't want Harry to see how upset he was, and he tried to think of a way to show him that he wasn't all bad. "We're also reuniting couples now. For free!" It had rushed out of his mouth before he had a chance to think it through.

"Really?" Harry raised one eyebrow and tapped his foot. "Who are you reuniting then?"

"A client with the girl he broke up with last week. He changed his mind and now wants her back." Louis took a deep breath while gauging Harry's reaction, when a sudden flash of inspiration hit him. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. Zayn--my business partner--and I are totally inexperienced in matchmaking. I was hoping you might want to help us out."

"Um." Harry relaxed his stance and bit his bottom lip, which made him look adorable. "I guess I could do that. If it's for a good cause..."

Louis's focus was still fixed on Harry's lips, which soundlessly called to him. Was that pink their natural color? He took a step toward Harry and looked up into his eyes. "I bet you're really good at matchmaking," he said in a low, husky voice. He leaned in further, and when Harry gave him an encouraging smile, he reached up, cupped Harry's face with one hand and closed the distance between their lips. For an awful moment, Louis thought Harry was going to pull away, so he gripped him tighter and pushed his body against Harry's long, lean one, pressing them both into the wall. With a groan, Harry opened his mouth and deepened the kiss. His arms snaked around Louis's waist, one hand dove under his T-shirt and gently rubbed his back. Louis's heart thumped noisily against his ribs and already he was so breathless that the room seemed to be spinning. But who needed oxygen? Given a choice, Louis preferred to keep kissing.

He might have actually passed out, if it wasn't for a loud knock on the door. "NLPD, is anyone there?" Louis pulled away and glanced from Harry to the door, bemused. Through the mottled glass he could see the outline of two bulky men.

"The police. What have I done now?"

Harry gave him a funny little look. "You called them, remember? Are you going to have me arrested now?"

And while the image of Harry in handcuffs made Louis's blood rush south, he shook his head vehemently. "Don't be daft. You didn't do anything." Although those lips should be illegal. Reluctantly, he stepped out of Harry's arms to answer the door.

The police officers were not amused about the lack of protesters and Louis had to amp up his charm to the max to get them to leave without giving him a fine. When he finally shut the door behind them, Louis was exhausted. And Harry had meanwhile quietly slipped past him and left.

 

 

**(6)**

 

The next day was a Saturday, which was always a very busy day for No Sad. Tons of people went out Friday night and met someone new, so now they wanted to break up with their old partner. Louis completed three assignments before lunch, each in a different costume with a different song. Now he was hot and thirsty and headed for the office, where he hoped to scrounge up another packet of ramen noodles and some nice hot tea. After he secured his bike, he checked his messages one more time. Three messages, from Zayn, Liberty, and his mother. Nothing from Harry. With a smirk, Louis kicked a crumpled, discarded can down the sidewalk. It had been stupid to get his hopes up from that one kiss. You just had to take one look at Harry--smart, well dressed and gorgeous--and Louis clearly was not in his league, not even close. And it wasn't just a matter of being from different backgrounds, Harry also loathed Louis's business. No, it was just not meant to be, and Louis better pull himself together and forget all about Harry, no matter how long that might take.

Louis took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and walked into No Sad to meet Zayn for lunch. Zayn, however, lounging on the couch, was already chewing on an alarmingly large sandwich, and so was the curly-haired boy sitting across from him. When the doorbell announced Louis's arrival, he turned and waved, mouth presumably too full too speak. Louis waved back, shocked speechless. Harry was having lunch, here in his office, when he had just resigned to never seeing him again.

"There's one for you in here too." Zayn held out a bakery bag. “Your friend Harry bought us lunch.”

"Thanks." Louis sat next to Harry and began to eat. "How was your date last night?" he asked Zayn between bites.

"Good." Zayn smiled. "Liam's easy to talk to. And hey, guess what? He plays the drums." Zayn gave Louis a triumphant smirk.

Harry elbowed Louis's ribs. "Is that some kind of innuendo, playing the drums?"

Louis laughed. "No. It just means he can play the drums."

"It's fate, I tell ya." Zayn brushed the crumbs off his shirt. "Harry, we've been trying to get a band together for a while, but we've never had any luck finding a drummer."

Louis mumbled something about drummers being cursed, but his mouth was too full, and the others just gave him a blank look.

"That sounds fun," said Harry. "I used to be in a band in high school."

"Oh?" said Louis. "Singing, or..."

"Yes, lead singer, but I can also play the piano and the violin."

"Impressive." Zayn nodded. "Not sure we need a violinist, but singers are always welcome, and we’ll need someone at the keyboard."

"So, can I join?" Harry's green eyes lit up. Louis rubbed his temples with an inward groan. He hated to squash this boy's interest.

"We're not doing the band thing, Zayn," he said, a bit more aggressively than he intended. "Drummer or not, we have too much on our plate right now to bother with music."

"I know you're stressed out," Zayn said calmly. "But making music is fun and relaxing. You used to love it."

Louis crumpled the empty bakery bag in his fist as though it had personally offended him. "I used to, exactly. But I don't love it anymore."

Zayn stared at him, lips tight. "You don't mean that,” he said finally. “I know you better than that."

After a moment of awkward, heavy silence, Harry said brightly, "So what's going on with that matchmaking gig? What's our strategy with that?" Louis gave him a little smile to thank him for changing the subject so smoothly.

"Right." Zayn dug through his pockets and produced a crinkled white envelope. "Liam passed this on last night. Max wants us to give these to Eleanor. He thinks it might help change her mind."

Curious, Louis reached for the envelope. A fat wad of money, maybe? A heartfelt love letter? Coupons for Tesco? He pulled the tab open and caught two tickets fluttering out. Heart Infection, LondonDome. "Yes!" he shrieked.

"Are you a big fan, too?" Harry asked.

"No, no. No," Louis said. "Not me. But my little sisters are...there should be three." Louis shook the envelope then stared into the emptiness inside.

Zayn cleared his throat rather loudly. "I guess you didn't listen: we're supposed to give the tickets to Eleanor. They're not for us."

Louis pouted. Two tickets, right here in his hand, and still so far away. Not fair. Zayn leaned forward, sticking his face right close to Louis's so he couldn't escape eye contact. "Can I trust you not to run off with them? We're in enough trouble as it is. We sure can't afford to add stealing from the clients to our list of problems."

"I don't steal." Louis injected the maximum amount of hurt and indignation into his voice. He didn't want Harry to think he had absolutely no values. Turning away from Zayn, he asked Harry, "Are you ready to pay Eleanor a visit now? I probably have another helmet lying around somewhere..."

"I'm here in my car." Harry jumped up and jiggled his car keys. "It'll be much faster, don't you think?"

Louis had to agree, even if the thought of Harry curled around him on his motorbike was disappointing to let go. Harry's car turned out to be a small, older hatchback parked on the curb. Louis was relieved that it wasn't anything grander, he had half-expected it to be a gleaming Mercedes. He gave Harry directions to Eleanor's apartment and settled into the passenger seat.

"So, this is pretty nice," Harry said with a sideways smile. "Fixing up a relationship, instead of wrecking one."

Louis suppressed a sigh. "We didn't wreck any. The clients did that all by themselves. We were just the messengers." He wondered how many more times he would have to point out this little difference to his idealistic new friend.

"Still. This must be more...well, positive for you as well. More satisfying." Harry gave him a quick questioning look before focusing back on the zoomway, and Louis nodded, even if he didn't agree one hundred percent. Happy couples tended to be grating on the lonely and disappointed.

"Are you going to do more of that in the future, then?" Harry asked when Louis remained quiet.

"Happy reunions? Yeah...sure." Louis sounded doubtful even to his own ears, but he couldn't help it. "If it works out that way," he added under his breath.

"You know, I'd be glad to help out with that," Harry said. "I'm pretty busy at Uni, but I could work part-time with you."

"Sure." This time Louis's smile was genuine. He'd have agreed to nearly anything to see more of Harry. That deep voice and those dimpled smiles already were like a drug in his veins, hot and addictive.

Louis directed Harry off the zoomway and into a neighborhood of tall residential buildings. The streets narrowed into a maze of alleys carrying the names of obscure birds. "We're looking for Hemispingus Crescent," he said.

Harry laughed. "What the hell is a hemispingus?"

Louis had to laugh as well. "It's a bird, you numb nuts."

Harry grinned for a while longer, then turned serious again. "So how come you don't want to start a band with the other boys? And don't tell me you're too busy, not even Zayn bought that bullshit excuse."

Louis's heart beat quicker and he rubbed his hands on his jeans. Not a subject anyone who knew him ever brought up these days. They all knew why. But now Louis was cornered.

"How about this," he said slowly. "I was in a band once and it didn't end well. Can we just leave it at that?" He gazed out the window to avoid Harry's scrutinizing look, and noticed the street sign. "Hemispingus Crescent! We just passed it. Back up, Harry!"

Saved by the bird. Louis chatted without break as they got out of the car and entered the brick apartment building. On the elevator ride up to Eleanor's place, Louis asked, "So, what's the plan, then?" He had the envelope with the concert tickets, but he felt almost naked without a fluffy costume.

Harry shrugged. "We'll just talk to her. She might be really happy to get back together with her boyfriend."

They reached the right floor and Louis rang the bell. A slim brunette opened the door with a puzzled look.

"Can I help you?"

Harry stepped forward to shake her hand. "Hi, I'm Harry and this is my friend Louis. We're here to bring you a message from Max."

Eleanor recoiled, and Louis quickly slipped his foot in the doorway before she could slam the door in their faces.

"Max! That loser! How do you know him?" She glared from behind the curtain of her long hair.

Harry held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Actually, we don't really know him, we've never even met him in person."

"We're from an independent agency," Louis took over. "We help..."

"We help couples get together," Harry quickly interrupted, with an apologetic sidelong glance at Louis. "And also to get back together, after they broke up."

Eleanor folded her arms across her chest and chewed on her bottom lip. Two teenagers with a baby stroller pushed noisily past them towards the elevator.

"Could we perhaps come in for a moment?" Harry asked. Louis knew he wouldn't have been able to resist that cute begging puppy look and suppressed a smile. Apparently, Eleanor couldn't resist it either, because the tension eased from her shoulders as she motioned them inside.

Eleanor offered them coffee, and they settled around a small kitchen table. Louis pulled out the crinkled envelope. Two tickets to Heart Infection...this should be a breeze. Louis needed these tickets so badly, he would have gone out with Max himself to get them. Then again, maybe not, considering that things with Harry were looking up.

"So," Harry said in a deep, languid tone, "what was it about Max you first fell in love with?"

Louis opened his mouth, then shut it again. This was Harry's expertise, and while Louis would have just pushed those tickets on the girl to speedily get out of here, he could admit to himself that Harry quite possibly knew a better way.

Eleanor played with the little buttons on her sweater. "Well, that was a long time ago, over three years." She pensively stirred sugar into her coffee. "But lately all we did was fight."

"Hmm. Do you remember your very first date? How did he ask you out?" Harry cocked his head to the side, regarding her patiently. It occurred to Louis that Harry was a real good listener. The list of Harry's talents grew and grew, the more he learned about this boy.

"Huh." Eleanor sat up straighter, a faint smile on her lips. "Funny you're asking. That's actually a pretty nice story, how we first got together. We both work in offices located on the same block, and always go to the same Starbucks on the corner. One day, he "accidentally" spilled his coffee on me. Later, he told me it had been part of his great plan. I was a bit angry at the time, though, because my blouse was ruined. He offered to pay for it, but he didn't have any money on him, so I told him where I work."

Eleanor took a sip of her coffee. "He did pay for my blouse. He also sent me flowers--in Starbucks cups--every day for a week. In the last one were roses, with a note asking me out."

Louis rolled his eyes at Harry, but Harry shrugged and said, "Well, that's kind of adorable, isn't it?"

Eleanor smiled ruefully. "It was. And he continued to be like that, thoughtful and romantic. But after we'd been together for a couple of years, the sweet little gestures became less and less frequent, and eventually they stopped." Eleanor let out a deep sigh. "I felt taken for granted, not appreciated. And so we fought more often. But I hung in there, hoping we could still work it out."

Harry's eyes widened. "And then he broke up with you, didn't he?"

"Through a break-up service, of all things!" Eleanor's voice rose in hurt and outrage. Louis sank down lower in his chair, hoping she wouldn't make the connection. "Some guy showed up here in a ninja turtle costume, and sang some stupid song about how it was time to take out the trash!"

Louis winced and avoided Harry's eyes. That was probably the most insensitive song of their repertoire. Now that he saw it from Eleanor's point of view, he realized how incredible callous their presentation could be. It was supposed to be funny, but he guessed it just came off as crass and unfeeling most of the time.

After a short but painful silence, Louis opened the envelope and took out the two concert tickets. “These are from Max,” he said. “He’d love to go with you, but it’s your choice who you take, of course.”

Eleanor took the tickets. “Oh, Heart Infection. I love those guys.” She put the tickets aside with a sigh.

"Would you be interested in meeting with Max and talking things through?” Harry asked. “We could come along and mediate, if you'd like."

Eleanor's eyes gleamed wetly. One shoulder rose in an uncertain half-shrug. "Maybe. If I knew he was making an effort to change. But he only phoned me once, and now he's sending a couple of strangers--no offence--to do his work for him? I don't know." She rose and put the mugs in the sink. Harry and Louis followed suit. "I'm sorry. You seem like nice guys. But Max is still a self-centered, unromantic prick."

As they trailed Eleanor down the hallway, Louis cleared his throat. He hated himself for his ruthlessness, but he just had to try. "So, I guess you won't accept those tickets then?"

"To Heart Infection?" She barked out a harsh laugh. "Damn right I'm keeping those! It’s my favorite band. I won't be going with Max, though, you can tell him that." She opened the door and ushered them out.

Waiting for the elevator, Louis slumped against the wall. The failure of the day slowly began to sink in. No Eleanor for Max, and no tickets for him. Strange, while they had sat in her kitchen, Louis had been convinced that Harry would reel her in. He was so kind and perceptive, with his slow, hypnotic voice and sweet smile...

"You did a good job in there," he said, squeezing Harry's hand.

Harry looked solemn. "Not good enough." The elevator dinged and they got on. Louis nudged him with his shoulder.

"That was Max's fault, not yours. You can't help he's such an ass."

Harry grinned back at him. "True, that." They smiled at each other, and Louis's heart accelerated as he wondered if he should try another assault on Harry's lips. Before he could make up his mind, they arrived in the lobby, and Harry said, "Do you want to hang out tonight?"

"Yes, sure," Louis said immediately, trying to control his joy, knowing how expressive his face could be. "At yours?"

"Uhm," Harry hummed. He unlocked his car and folded his lean limbs inside. Louis joined him on the other side. As he started the engine, Harry turned to face Louis, his nose scrunched up in a cute way. "I kind of have a surprise planned. Can I let you know later where to meet me?"

Louis agreed, wondering what Harry could have in mind.

 

 

  **(7)**

 

The address Harry texted him later was unfamiliar to Louis, and he wondered the entire ride over what Harry might have planned. A candle-lit dinner at a romantic restaurant? Or perhaps some artsy student-organized event at a deserted warehouse?

The district his GPS navigator led him to turned out to be a middle-class residential area, with narrow, tree-lined streets and smallish apartment buildings interspersed with older, but well-kept homes. A nice enough neighborhood, but Louis couldn't imagine what kind of date they were to have here. For a panicked second Louis wondered if he had been invited to Harry's mum's house for dinner (because then he'd be dressed all wrong), but then he realized that Harry's parents would probably live in a much more affluent district even than this one.

In the end, the mystery address belonged to a grey bungalow with an attached garage, surrounded by a lawn and a hip-height hedge. Louis opened a wooden gate, walked to the front door and rang the bell. Harry almost immediately swung it open wide, a huge grin on his face.

"You found it!" He pulled Louis inside.

"Is this your second home then?" Louis asked, only half joking. Harry laughed, which was quickly becoming Louis's favorite sound.

"We're in the basement," he offered as an obscure explanation. He led Louis to a dimly-lit stairway, and Louis followed him downstairs, wondering who he had meant by we. Sounds of laughter and guitar music wafted up to them, and then they entered a large den. Couches and a few other pieces of furniture lined the walls, but the room was dominated by a professional drum set, amps, guitars and microphones on stands, as well as a spindly keyboard. Cables snaked off toward the far side of the room. On one of the couches sat Liam, Zayn and Niall, who held an acoustic guitar on his lap, softly stirring the strings.

Louis's chest became painfully tight. How often had he said that he never wanted to join another band? True, not to Harry, but Niall and Zayn should know better than this. Louis felt angry, betrayed and cornered. He swallowed dry and turned to Harry.

"Surprise!" Harry said cheerfully, but his smile lost its glow as he watched Louis's reaction. All of a sudden, Louis's misgivings ceased to matter. The only important thing was to keep Harry happy, to keep that sweet smile from sliding off his face.

"This is great," he said, hoping his enthusiasm didn't come across as fake as it felt. "Whose place is this then, Liam's?"

Liam raised a hand. "Yup. When I was growing up, me and my mates would meet here every weekend-end, practicing our instruments and figuring out how to cover some songs."

"Were you any good?" Louis asked with a smile. He took a sleek black Jackson off its stand and ran his hands appreciatively over the smooth surface. Not quite as nice as the vintage Fender Stratocaster he used to play with Heart Infection, but still.

Liam grinned. "Probably not, but we loved it! My parents were usually out, so we could be as loud as we wanted."

"Where are your parents now?" asked Zayn, laying a hand on Liam's knee.

"They bought a condo on the Canary Islands. Sunny year round. And I get to live here rent free."

Louis tried to squash his envy. Why didn't he ever have that kind of luck? Instead he got a father who took off and a mother too sick to work. But that last thought made him immediately feel guilty. She was a good mum, and it wasn’t her fault that she was ill. Louis didn't really mind helping his mother out. If only she was going to get better. Some days it had seemed like she might, but lately...no, he wasn't going to dwell on this tonight. Not when Harry had brought his friends together as a favor to him.

"Here," Niall handed him a beer. "And don't look so shell shocked. We're not trying out for an agent, we're just going to have some fun."

And somehow, Louis did have fun as the evening wore on. Everyone got along great, the beer flowed freely, and once they picked up the various instruments and started playing it became obvious that their individual talents mixed well, they complemented each other, and each of them had a solid, unique singing voice.

Soon they began to put together a song. Zayn was jotting down some lyrics, while Harry tried out different melodies on a keyboard. Louis played guitar, Niall bass guitar, and Liam, of course, had manned his drum set.

“Dudes, I’m calling it Night Changes,” Zayn declared. “I think it’s going to be great.”

Everyone agreed, and they tinkered around with the song until long after midnight. Since they all had drunk too much to drive, Liam invited everybody to stay the night, and around two in the morning, when Niall collapsed on a couch and immediately started snoring, Zayn and Liam said good night, and Louis was finally alone with Harry.

 

 

 **(8)**  

 

They found an unused bedroom on the upper level with a queen-sized bed. A slanted ceiling held a window, which framed a fat moon in an inky sky. Still a few beer shy of drunk, Louis pulled Harry onto the bed with him. Harry giggled and cuddled into Louis's side. Louis wrapped his arms around him, his nose only an inch apart from Harry's. The soft glow from the street lights made Harry's green eyes sparkle in the near darkness.

"Thank you for tonight," Louis mumbled into his ear, surreptitiously smelling his curls. Yummy. Harry smelled just as tasty as he looked.

Harry pressed his cheek to Louis's face. "Did you have fun?" He nipped on Louis's earlobe, then licked down the side of his neck. Louis couldn't stifle a startled sound. He used his leg to pull Harry even closer, and then tilted Harry's face toward him, feeling his hot breath on his skin. Louis pulse quickened as his mouth dove for those incredible lips. With a double groan, they sank into the kiss, gentle first, then more adventurous and exploratory, and finally just with wild abandon.

Louis's hand tangled in Harry's silky curls for a while, then traveled down his back to his waist. He pulled Harry's shirt out of his jeans and caressed his naked back. Harry's lips now moved to Louis's neck, licking and kissing the sensitive skin, while his hands worked on the button of Louis's trousers. When it didn't budge, Harry broke their kiss and laughed.

"What's wrong with these jeans?" he whispered, pulling impatiently on the waistband.

"They're child proof," Louis whispered back, which sent Harry into a fit of hysterics. He curled in on himself in helpless giggles. Louis shook his head fondly. His joke hadn't been that funny. He popped the button of his trousers himself, then shimmied out of them. Harry calmed a bit and watched. Then he lay back and tugged on Louis's shirt.

"Can you do mine as well? I think they're child proof, too!" He snickered again, and Louis smirked.

"I'll give you something to giggle about." Louis's hands raced up and down Harry's torso, tickling him expertly, until Harry was a wheezing mess. Only then he removed his trousers, taking the shorts off as well while he was at it. Harry quickly tossed his shirt, and Louis discarded the rest of his own clothes. He took a moment to savor a naked Harry, his skin creamy in the moonlight, then he stretched out on top of him and kissed him again.

Louis had wanted this since the moment he had danced for him in a squangaroo suit, but none of his fantasies had come even close to what it felt like to have Harry squirm and wriggle underneath him while moaning into his mouth. Louis became rock hard immediately, and Harry was just as aroused. Louis lifted himself up on his arms, wanting to watch his face. Harry had his eyes half closed, his dark curls a beautiful contrast to his pale skin. _Like a modern, male Snow White_ , he thought before the pleasure spiking through his body intensified and all rational thought ceased. He rutted harder against Harry, who moved his hips in sync. Their cocks rubbed against each other, which propelled Louis's arousal over the brink and into the trembling, liquid hot mess of his climax. Harry came shortly after, with an incoherent yell. He threw his arms around Louis's neck and held on tight. Louis kissed him again, over and over, just because he could.

After they cleaned themselves up a bit, they cuddled under the sheets, suddenly exhausted. Louis wanted to stay awake and watch Harry sleep in his arms, but the week's tension had evaporated, and he just felt content and warm, and soon he drifted off.

The next day was Sunday, normally a day off for Louis, except that when he checked the messages on his phone, he found a text from Max, demanding to know (ASAP!!!) the outcome of their meeting with Eleanor. _Shit._ This was the last conversation he wanted to have, but there really was no way around it. Hopefully he could rope Zayn and Liam into joining him.

There was another text from his mum, asking him to come by the house when he had time. As if he wasn't usually home every evening. But his mum didn't text him often, and it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The last message came from Liberty, reading bluntly _TICKETS?!?!_ Louis sighed, wishing he could just pull the blanket over his head and stay in bed with Harry for the rest of the day. Harry, however, had greeted him with a kiss, but then run off to pee and wash. _Traitor._ Louis slowly rolled off the bed and scratched sticky leftovers from the previous night from his belly. Perhaps a shower was a good idea, after all.

 

 

**(9)**

 

Louis, Zayn and Liam arranged to meet Max at a downtown coffee shop just after lunch. Louis, on his bike, arrived shortly after Liam and Zayn had settled at a small table in the back with their steaming lattes in front of them. He ordered himself a tea, then joined them. Max was nowhere in sight, but then they were early. Liam had spread some important-looking documents over the plastic table top, but for all Louis knew they might have been just for show.

"So what's our situation now," he asked, stirring his tea to cool it. "He can't really sue us, right? I mean, we gave it a good try, but there's nothing more we can do to help him get his girl back."

Liam shuffled through his papers with a quiet sigh. He pulled one to the front and showed it to Louis. "Do you recognize this?"

Louis frowned at the page, which was printed in very small font. He had perfect vision, but he could barely make out the words. "Uhm...it looks like some kind of legal gibberish?"

Liam gave him an odd, unreadable look.

"The side effects of some kind of medication?" Louis tried again. "You know, don't take if pregnant, under seventy or otherwise alive, or you may get a very itchy genital rash and fall into a coma?"

"Very funny." Liam's voice, however didn't sound amused. "This is the disclaimer part of the contractual agreement your clients consent to when they hire you. It's on your website."

"Oh." Louis took a closer look. He still couldn't recall having ever seen, let alone read the document. He doubted very much that his clients did, either. "Well, Zayn was in charge of the website," he said with an apologetic shrug to his dark-haired friend.

Liam turned to Zayn, his stern face softening. Louis rolled his eyes, hoping he wasn't that obvious when he looked at Harry. "So, where did you get the contract from? You didn't have a lawyer draw it up for you, did you?"

Zayn shook his head. "Nah. I just downloaded one from the Internet and changed the wording a bit. Did I mess up?" Zayn made an impossibly sweet puppy face, which even Louis would not be immune to.

"Not necessarily," Liam said. "But the wording is very vague, and a good lawyer could probably take advantage of that. Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Liam glanced past Louis to the door. "And here he comes."

Max was a lanky man in a suit, thirty, or maybe even older, with an unhealthy complexion and a brown moustache. He looked like he should be wearing one of those old-fashioned bowler hats from the nineteen thirties, Louis thought. Max sat down immediately, without bothering to order a beverage.

Knees drawn tightly together, he rested his satchel on top, like an old lady waiting for the bus. "So," he said in a surprisingly deep voice, "what's the news on my Eleanor?"

Louis just wanted to get the whole sorry episode over with, so he dove right in. "The good news: she accepted the concert tickets. The bad news: she won't be going with you." Liam gave Louis an annoyed look, which he shrugged off.

Max waited, possibly for Louis to give him more of the good news variety, but the whole table fell into an awkward silence, everyone fiddling with their cups. "That's it then?" Max asked. "But what did she say? Why won't she give me another chance?" Louis suddenly wished he had thought to bring Harry to the meeting. He was so thoughtful, and had a real knack for making people feel comfortable. He would have found a way to diplomatically tell Max that Eleanor was done with him. Even without a song or a costume.

"Well, Louis?" Liam kicked at his foot under the table. "What did she say?"

Louis couldn't remember anything specific about the conversation. The talk had been mostly between Eleanor and Harry. Louis had watched, and he could have told them exactly what clothes Harry had worn or how he looked when he smiled. But he was pretty sure Max didn't want to hear about that.

"She just said she doesn't want you back and that she'll take someone else to the concert." There had been a lot more said, but it really didn't matter, did it? Not when the end result was the same.

Max's face scrunched up and turned an unnatural shade of pink. "This is all your fault," he spat at Louis, rising out of his seat. "You're unprofessional, incompetent and you don't even give a shit. Sitting there, drinking tea--you ruined my life!" His voice got louder and more hysterical, and Louis wondered if he'd get beaten with a satchel next.

Liam also rose. "Sir, please calm down. We are still willing to settle this matter peacefully. What would you like us to do now?"

"I'd like you all to go to hell," yelled Max. He put his satchel on his chair, opened it, and pulled out a piece of paper. "I had my lawyer draw up a schedule for my emotional distress compensation payments. If you can't agree to it, I have no choice but to take you to court." He slid the paper across the table and marched out of the coffee shop. Reluctantly, Liam picked it up and read it.

"Well, shit," he said, passing the paper to Zayn, who only gave it a quick glance before handing it to Louis.

As Louis took in the numbers on the suggested payment schedule, a heat rush made him light headed, and he thought he might be sick. "We can't make these payments, Liam. We just don't have the money."

Liam nodded. "It's okay. Just pay him his first instalment while I talk to his lawyer. I'm sure I can negotiate a better settlement for you."

"Are you sure we should still settle?" Zayn asked. "Maybe we should let him try his case in court. I can't imagine that he would win."

"It doesn't matter, Zayn. There would still be all kinds of costs for you, even if you did win they case. If this case goes to court, the only ones winning are the lawyers."

There followed a depressed silence and Louis wondered what he had left to sell. The shop was already mortgaged to the max, and he didn't own anything of value. Maybe he should sell a kidney on the black market, but he had no idea how one would complete such a transaction.

 

 

**(10)**

 

As Louis was just about to get on his bike, he got another message from Libby.

_Mum in hospital. No rush._

Louis frowned. Why did she always have to be so cryptic? Or was no rush supposed to be sarcasm? At least he knew which hospital his mother would be in, same one as last time. He tried to take his sister literally and stayed under the speed limit, although the nagging worry in his stomach urged him on to go faster. It took him nearly half an hour before he stood at the hospital's admin desk. A nurse gave him directions and Louis hurried to the elevator. They had put his mum in a room on the top floor. At least, Louis reflected, as he walked down the ward, health care was free in New London. Else they would have been living on the streets already, with mum's frequent hospital visits and her various expensive medications.

Louis found the right door and knocked. Liberty opened and glared at him. "Well, you took your sweet time, didn't you?"

Louis gently pushed her aside. His other two sisters sat on the edge of their mum's bed, one on each side. He quickly scanned his mum. She looked tired and too thin, but then she had looked like that for a long time now.

"Hey," he said and gave her a hug. Lorelei complained, because he had knocked over her toy unicorn. He tousled her frizzy curls absently. "What happened?"

"Nothing, really." Louis's mum smiled at him. "I feel fine, I don't know what the fuss is all about."

Louis's eyebrows rose. His mum tended to minimize her suffering, so he was immediately suspicious. "Then why are you here? Is the food that much better than Liberty's cooking?"

"I had a check-up with my GP this morning, and he wants Dr Flint to have a peek at me. I'll be back home tomorrow."

"Ah." Louis was sure that she still hadn't given him the full picture, but perhaps that had to do with Lexi and Lorelei bouncing on her bed. She never wanted the young ones to worry about her.

"Oh, and Louis," his mum took his hand, "we got a past-due note from the landlord. Are we behind with the rent again? Remember, last time we paid late he said we need to pay in time or he'll have us evicted. Apparently there is a waiting list for our building, with tenants who pay, according to him."

"Don't worry, Mum." Louis squeezed his mother's hand. "I'll take care of it." He had no idea how, but his sick mum didn't have to know that. He turned to Liberty. "You should take the kids home, so Mum can get some rest."

Liberty rolled her eyes, but nodded. Then she waved him out the door and followed him into the hallway. "Listen," she hissed. "Did you get our tickets or not? Because I heard today that the concert is completely sold out."

Louis felt cold anger rolling in his guts. "That's what's on your mind right now, seriously? Our mother's in there, and the doctors don't know their butts from their noses, but all you can think of is this dumb boy band and their shitty little concert?"

Liberty recoiled as if he had slapped her. "Is that what you think of me? Are you, like, three years old? Can't you see that I clean and cook and take care of the kids and go to school? So yeah, a concert would be a fun break, but I can live without it, just like I live without many other things. But those two girls in there?" She pointed a finger at the door behind them. "You made them a promise, and they believed you. Because I taught them that promises are to be kept, not broken." Liberty took a deep breath. She looked calmer now, having spoken her mind.

Louis pressed his emotions deep into the cupboards of his mind. His anger at being pressured, his worry about money--now he had to come up with rent money, too?-- his growing fear that his mum might only get worse, and never better. He shared a lot with Liberty, but he knew that if he fell apart, Libby would as well. So he had to stay calm and keep making jokes. For all their sakes.

"Nice speech, Lib. Did you practice that all afternoon?" He began to slowly walk backwards to the elevator, grinning madly. "You could have saved yourself the effort. I already have the tickets."

"Louis!" Liberty's eyes lit up and she flew into his arms. "Why didn't you say so? You're such a jerk!" She slapped him playfully, then held out her hand.

"I don't have them on me," Louis said, hoping he wasn't blushing. "They're at work. I'll bring them home tonight." Before Liberty had a chance to get suspicious again, Louis hopped into the elevator and took off.

 

 

**(11)**

 

When Louis returned to his bike, he noticed that his front tire sat unusually low. On closer inspection, he found a rather large hole in the rubbery material. It looked like it had been done with a knife or some similar instrument. _Great. Someone slashed my tire. Just great._

Louis crouched on the sidewalk and rubbed his hands on his face. This was quite possibly one of the worst days of his life. Not the very worst, mind you, that one had already been taken two years ago. But this one came pretty close. Especially as lying to Liberty about the tickets meant that he now had no choice but to talk Nick into giving him free ones.

It would be much easier to ask, though, if he hadn't broken off all connections to his former band so very thoroughly. Nick and Ben had both wanted to talk to him, right after the incident, and would phone and text and leave messages, even sent paper letters through the postal service, all of which Louis had resolutely ignored until they finally stopped coming.

At the time, he had felt incapable of speaking to them, hadn't seen a point to it anyway, other than getting his heart ripped apart even more than it already was. But now Louis thought he might have come off as a bit over the top, maybe even childish and vengeful. And now his former friends were international superstars, on the cover of teen magazines and often seen on the telly (Louis, however, always changed the channel). He wasn't sure Nick would even speak to him. But he had to try.

Except now he also didn't have a vehicle. _What crap timing!_ Public transportation took forever, and wasn't as cheap as it was made out to be, either.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and Louis checked the screen. A text from Harry. Louis smiled. At least one thing was going right in his life. He quickly texted back, explaining how he got stranded at the hospital. Harry immediately offered to pick him up, and Louis graciously accepted. Twenty minutes later he sat next to Harry in his tiny car, telling him all about his miserable day. Harry was a good listener. They drove back to No Sad's office, since Louis couldn't afford any time off now. Or ever again, probably.

At the office, Zayn had left a message for Louis about a new job that had come in. Louis scanned the details of the job and grimaced. The panda suit again. At least it was now fixed and freshly washed. He'd feel much better smelling of mountain spring. Sensing Harry's sympathetic gaze on him, Louis faked a brave smile. "I'd love to hang out with you more, but it looks like I have to work."

"Are you going to wear the panda on the bus?" Harry grinned, doing the dimple thing that made Louis's insides melt. It was a silly question, as Louis never suited up until he got to his destination. He might get arrested as a panda on a motorbike. Also, his helmet wouldn't fit over his furry ears--he'd tried. So he just shook his head and stuffed the costume into his backpack.

Harry watched him, then said, "Why don't I drive you? It would be faster, and we could spend more time together." He shook his curls out of his face and gave Louis a shy sideways glance. "Two birds with one stone, and all that."

"But you don't like what I do," Louis pointed out. "I'm the evil heartbreak messenger."

Harry laughed at that. It started out with a giggle and ended with Harry bent over as if trying not to pee himself, laughing so hard. Louis shook his head. _Silly boy._ He crossed the space separating them and pulled Harry into his arms. Harry muffled his giggles in Louis's shirt, before they were entirely cut off by Louis's lips on his own. The kiss began soft and sweet, but quickly passion heated up its intensity. Louis's hands slid down to cup Harry's ass, and Harry moaned into his mouth. Just as Louis considered locking up the shop and moving Harry to the saggy old couch, his phone broke into song. It was Zayn's dedicated ringtone, the song a snippet of a recording of Zayn rapping a cheeky break-up jingle.

"Do you need to take that?" Harry's voice was breathy and raw, his exhalation warm on Louis's neck.

Louis made a sound indicating unwillingness and refusal. He really should be taking it, with all the crap that was going on, but how often did he have a sweet-smelling, kiss-willing Harry in his arms? Zayn could wait. Louis buried his mouth under the curls covering Harry's jawline, kissing and licking his way up to his ear, ignoring the music coming from his pocket. It broke off abruptly, only to start up again a moment later. With a groan, Louis pulled away from Harry and yanked his phone out. He meant to turn the sound off, but then he reconsidered. It was probably just as quick to deal with Zayn, and there was the chance that it was actually important. He gave Harry a regretful half-smile.

Zayn, however, didn't have much more to say than that there was a new job for Louis, which he already knew. At least he promised to get Louis's bike towed to one shop where they still had some credit. So that was one worry less. After he disconnected with Zayn, Louis checked the time. If he still planned to speak to Nick, he needed to get this job out of the way pronto. So he decided to take up Harry's offer of driving him, although it gave him vague anxious contractions in his guts.

 

 

  **(12)**

 

The target's address was only a twenty-minute drive away, but the closer they got, the more the city around them changed. Not that No Sad's office was located in one of the more prosperous or prettier parts of town, but district 56 was on a whole other level of decay and hopelessness. Any street-high windows were either broken or boarded up. Litter covered the sidewalks like a sore, spreading rash. The air hung thick and low, and smelled of piss and desperation.

Louis's stomach tightened more and more, wishing he had taken the bus after all. He suddenly didn't want to take Harry to his dreadful destination, didn't want Harry to witness Louis deliver another callous, commercial heartbreak. He already felt off-center enough, ready to spin out of control at the next challenge, he certainly didn't need Harry's judgment on top of it.

Tense, he watched Harry follow his GPS's instructions and turn into the underground parking garage of the New London Government Housing Complex, also called the Ultrablocks because of the buildings' massive, rectangular shape. Harry found a parking spot and turned off the engine. The parking garage was poorly lit, as many of the overhead lamps appeared to be broken. Graffiti covered the walls, but it wasn't the artistic, bright kind that Zayn and his friends produced. These here were coarse, dark and full of furious hatred at the world at large. At the far end, a vandalized, burnt out car still leaked black smoke through its smashed windows like a dying dragon. Louis got out of the car and pulled his panda suit out of his backpack. He stared at it uncertainly. Wearing it here might well be interpreted as an invitation to get the shit kicked out of him, or worse. Grimacing, he stuffed it back. He'd skip the costume this once.

Harry sidled up to him, glancing around wide-eyed. "Do you think it's safe to leave the car here?"

Louis shrugged. Not really, but he wasn't about to leave Harry alone in this parking garage just so he could guard his car. "We won't be long," he offered.

Harry followed him to the staircase behind a metal door. There was an elevator as well, but Louis wasn't surprised to see a hand-written _Out of Service_ sign scotch-taped to it. The bare light bulb lighting the concrete steps leading to the upper levels flickered, creating shivering shadows along the walls. Louis's target lived on the fifth floor, in 5387 C. The fifth floor hallway was narrow and smelled of mold and cat feces. Noises drifted from behind closed doors, reminding Louis that it was now supper time, and most people would be at home. They heard children yelling, babies wailing, a girl's high-spirited laughter, a dog yapping, a TV game show, heavy metal music, a couple arguing. Here and there an open door with people entering or leaving gave them glimpses of the tiny, cramped spaces within.

While they encountered many tenants or their visitors, nobody seemed to pay them any attention, which relaxed Louis by degrees. He had half expected to be jumped by a gang of juvenile thugs with homemade but nevertheless lethal weapons.

Finding door number 5387 C was less straightforward than Louis had assumed. The hallway occasionally forked off in different directions, and the signs on the walls were mostly missing or illegible. But they soon clued in that all doors were lettered with a B following the numbers, which almost certainly meant that they were not even in the right block of the complex. Neither Harry nor Louis felt comfortable asking for directions, so they navigated around the maze of corridors until they found a door leading outside onto a dark, covered bridge. Cold air blew through the chicken-wired sides, which showed a barren courtyard below, and the roads of the city beyond. Louis ran his hand along the rusty wire, a chill freezing his bones. To prevent jumpers. And how could this place not squeeze the last ounce of hope from people's hearts?

Harry tugged on his hand and pointed to the door on the far side. It was marked with a huge, luminescently white _C_. Louis let out a long breath and kept going. After entering C block, they found the right apartment easy enough. But Louis's mood had plummeted to the point that he neither wanted to put on a costume nor sing a cheeky song. Harry was right, it was a rather heartless way to deliver bad news. Especially in a place like this, where any minor catastrophe could push you over the edge, could break that dam holding back the sea of desperation.

Louis checked the name on Zayn's note: Kate Wharton. The ringer was broken, so he knocked. A pale young woman with glasses opened the door an inch, leaving the security chain on. Louis somberly informed her of her boyfriend's decision to break it off. She kept shaking her head, eyes wide, until she finally crumpled in on herself, her body heaving with sobs. Unbelievably, Harry talked her into letting them into the apartment, where they sat with her in a small but clean living room. Harry hugged her and rubbed her back, and after a while she calmed down. Louis was nearly paralyzed in the face of her grief, feeling guilty and embarrassed to be somehow connected to the boyfriend's desertion, even though he had never even met the guy. How had he ever thought that this was a decent way to make a living?

Eventually, the girl walked them out. Harry left their number, reminding her to 'call anytime, day or night.' After a final hug, they were free to go. They crossed the bridge back to B block in silence.

Making their way through the rabbit warren of the crisscrossing corridors in B block, they stopped when a loud argument from an apartment to their right suddenly burst into the hallway in the form of a skimpily dressed, disheveled woman. Her dyed blonde hair had partially come loose from a bun and her heavy make-up melted into the blood oozing from a cut on her cheek. A man stood in the open door, tall, muscular, and angry. He narrowed his eyes at Louis. "What are you staring at?"

Louis took an instinctive step backward. That guy could easily rip him to shreds, and he seemed in a mind to do just that. The girl screamed a long string of foreign words--Russian? Portuguese? Louis had no idea--at the man. She gestured wildly, pleading or maybe insulting? The scene wasn't entirely clear to Louis, all he knew was that he didn't want to get involved.

Then another man appeared behind the first one, stepping around him to approach the woman. He was middle-aged and wore a cheap, shiny suit. He grabbed the woman by the hair and growled something into her ear, while she fought to tear free. Suddenly everything happened very fast. Sirens rang out in the distance, a gun appeared in the older man's hand, the woman broke free and took off down the corridor. Several other people, both men and women, now crowded in the open doorway, shouting and arguing. Another door on the opposite side opened and shut just as quickly. A gun shot echoed from the walls even as the older man aimed again at the blonde woman before she disappeared around a corner.

"Let's go, Louis!"

Harry pulled on Louis's arm and gestured behind them. Louis shook himself out of his frozen state of shock and ran. They tore down corridors without regard to where they were heading, just to put distance between them and the gunman. Two more shots rang out, before Harry found a heavy door marking the staircase. There they sank onto the dirty steps, shaky and breathing hard from their flight. Their eyes met, and Harry let out a trembling, nervous laugh.

"I didn't realize your job could be so dangerous. The way that guy looked at us..." Harry shuddered. Louis pulled him close. He shouldn't have brought Harry along, knowing what a hellhole the Ultrablocks were.

"I'm sorry," Louis whispered. He kept listening for more gunshots or approaching footsteps, but all was quiet in the hallway beyond. For now, anyway. "I never realized it was this bad," Louis added. He gnawed on a fingernail, heart heavy.

"What?" Harry asked after a moment of tense silence. He pulled Louis's abused finger from his mouth and held his hand. "We're okay, and if we make it to my car alright, and provided it hasn't been vandalized, we'll be out of here in under ten minutes, yeah?"

Louis nodded darkly. "It's just...my mother and I are having trouble paying the rent, and our landlord is a jerk. So if I can't raise the money in time, we'll be evicted. And this place...this is where the government will put us."

Harry tightened his grip on Louis's hand. "You could come live with me."

Louis gave him a fond smile. They really hadn't known each other long enough for such a proposal, but Harry was so generous at heart that he probably even meant it. Then Louis sighed. "And what about my mum, and my three sisters? We can't all move in with you. And I don't want them to live here without me, either." Not that Louis would be much in the way of protection against criminals with guns, or any other weapons.

"Maybe you could get a better job," Harry suggested. "One that pays better, I mean." He shot Louis an uncertain sideways glance. Louis grinned back, but it was a bit forced.

"I hadn't thought about that," he admitted. "It's my business, I used up all my savings to buy it, and I've always been sure that if I just worked hard enough, I could make it soar, you know? After all, there’s a potentially infinite amount of customers." His shoulders sank and he let out a long breath. "It seemed like my destiny at the time. But I guess it didn't work out for me."

Harry squeezed his hand and gave him a curious look. "Your destiny? But why?"

Louis laughed, embarrassment heating his face. "Ah, well. It will sound a little crazy. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

Harry nodded eagerly.

"Okay, then." Louis shook his fringe out of his face. "So, about a year ago, I had just lost another job and felt pretty low about myself and my life. I was walking downtown to the bus stop, when I suddenly saw this amazing, cool motorcycle parked on the sidewalk. I went to have a look, and then, out of nowhere, a little old Chinese man popped up and started talking with this heavy, warbled accent. He told me that the bike belonged to his break-up agency, which he was selling because he was getting too old for it."

Harry groaned. "Are you serious? You bought the business because of the bike?"

Louis shrugged. "That wasn’t the only reason. At that time, my mum was already sick, and I felt that losing my job meant letting them down, not keeping my promise that I’d look after her and my sisters. I hoped that owning a business might be a good idea.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. “In any case, the Chinese man invited me inside the office for some very strange tea, and after I haggled a bit with him, the business--and the bike--were mine."

"And you gave him all your savings? He probably ripped you off."

Louis laughed. "I don't think so. I didn't have all that much, and the bike was sure worth it alone. Actually, I felt like I was stealing from him, but he was so happy about the deal, and kept saying that he could feel it in his bones that the store was my destiny. And who was I to tell him otherwise?"

"I guess." Harry sighed. "At least that explains why your agency has such an odd name."

"I suppose I could try to find another gullible soul to buy it from me," Louis thought out loud. "Of course, I would have to throw the bike in as well...but it doesn't even run right now. Who'd buy a failing business and a broken bike?"

Harry wiped a wayward curl out of his face. "I could ask my dad to give you a loan."

Louis immediately shook his head and jumped to his feet, withdrawing his hand from Harry's. "No, absolutely not! I don't even know your dad. Why should he give me money?" When he saw Harry's hurt expression, he added in a softer tone, "This is my problem, yeah? I need to figure it out myself."

He reached for Harry and pulled him to his feet. Harry threw his arms around him, nuzzling into his neck. "Sometimes, though, it's okay to accept help, you know. From your friends."

They made their way back to Harry's car without another incident. The car looked unharmed as well. A strong dose of relief wiped away the last of Louis's nervous tension. Harry carefully exited the parking lot and headed back to the highway.

Louis checked the time. This job had taken him much longer than it should have. He still needed to find out how his mum was doing, and his bike, and his sisters, who only came last on his list as they were the most likely to be fine without him. Liberty took good care of the younger ones. Thinking of Libby sent his mind into another direction--Nick. He had to talk to him. It was his only chance to still get tickets, and the only thing he had any hope of fixing in this mess his life had become.

With a rueful smile he turned to Harry. "You've done so much for me already, but do you think you could also drive me to the LondonDome?"

 

 

  **(13)**

 

"What are we doing at the LondonDome?" Harry asked, while negotiating the heavy evening traffic. "Are you still trying to get those tickets for your sisters?"

Louis squirmed in his seat. He'd forgotten that Harry didn't know yet about him and Nick. Choking down a groan, he told the bare bones of his history with Heart Infection. Harry listened wide-eyed, so engrossed that Louis had to remind him several times to pay attention to his driving.

When Louis had finished, Harry said, "So basically, if you hadn't left Nick, you'd be up on that stage in the LondonDome, rich and famous?"

"Well, yes, in theory." When Louis let himself think about it at all, he never put it that bluntly. There were all kinds of possible ways his life could have gone, and that was only one of them. It hadn't turned out that way, so why dwell on it? He'd only make himself more miserable. “But yeah, that’s another reason I feel like I let my family down. If I’d stayed with the band, my mum sure wouldn’t have to worry about rent money now.”

Harry hummed an acknowledgement, then frowned. "Wait a second--Nick Grimshaw's gay? But isn't he dating this blonde actress? I can't remember her name..."

Louis grimaced. "Yeah, they're all dating pretty, young girls: actresses, models, or singers. It must be part of their contract, or something. When I was with Nick, he was out of the closet, and even if he's not with Ben anymore, I'm sure his tastes haven't changed that much. I can guarantee you his girlfriend's just a beard."

"Huh," Harry said. "I guess it's lucky then, that you're not in the band anymore. That would be hard, I think, to be in a relationship with your band mate, but having to pretend you're with someone else."

Louis grunted in response. After a moment, he added, "Maybe it would be a hassle, but for fame and fortune, it would be totally worth it."

Harry hit the brakes so hard the car screeched to a stop at the red light. "Seriously? You really believe that?" He gave Louis, who shrugged his shoulders, a searching look. "Don't you value your freedom? The way you can express who you are without being censored?"

Louis sighed. "I suppose. But if you ask me, freedom, when you're poor, is limited as well. Money gives you a different set of choices, is all."

"Fair enough. So why didn't you ask Nick for tickets earlier? I'm sure he gets extras to give his friends and family." Harry turned off the road and into the vast parking lot of the LondonDome.

"Only I didn't stay friends with them. I broke off all contact. Nick might not want to talk to me at all, to be honest."

The parking lot was only half full, and Harry parked as close to the main entrance as he could. A cold drizzle had begun to fall. Louis shivered as they walked towards the doors, wondering how he would convince security to let him through to Nick. Maybe he should have brought pictures of them together, or something, to prove they once were close. This was a half-baked plan at best. Stupid and hopeless, as all his endeavors.

They entered the large, modern lobby, with its endless rows of turnstiles, now closed off, and brightly lit signs pointing out all amenities. There were other people around, mostly staff and security, judging by their respective uniforms, but the huge building seemed mostly deserted.

"And you're sure they're rehearsing now? How do you know?" Harry tugged Louis to an interactive information screen in the middle of the long, curved lobby.

Louis didn't like to admit it, but Harry smiled at him so sweetly that the words left his mouth before he had time to consider. "Tumblr. Fan blogs, okay? I'm a cyber-stalker."

Harry laughed his infectious laugh. He grabbed Louis’s hand. "That's adorable. So let's find the stage entrance."

They took directions from the info screen and proceeded down the hall and then down a wide staircase to the floor below. The stage door turned out to be easy to find. There was a gaggle of squealing, giggling girls, which thickened the closer they got. Louis elbowed, Harry charmed his way through the excited crowd until they stood in front of several hulking security employees guarding the doors like the Holy Grail.

Louis nervously grinned up at them. Now what? The brawny man in front of him ignored him in favor of the small communicator in his hand, which he held pressed to his ear while nodding. After he slipped the device into his yellow vest, he held up a big hand and raised his voice.

"Listen up, ladies! We're going to let you in momentarily, so keep your IDs ready and visible. I know you're excited, but let's try and do this in a civilized way." Amazingly, the mass of girls behind Louis and Harry quieted somewhat and formed an orderly queue. The man frowned down at Louis. "Where's your lanyards, lads?"

Louis nervously glanced around, and noticed for the first time that everyone wore or held an ID card on a lanyard. "Uhm..."

Harry pushed up next to him and began, in his deep slow voice, to tell the security guard what appeared to be the story of Louis's life. In a convoluted, unnecessarily wordy way. And, with the din of over-exited teenage girls, impossible to hear.

The man leaned closer, one eye on the girls now rushing through the doors his colleagues had thrown open. "You win the radio contest? NLKJ 3 Weekday Entertainment?"

Harry shook his head and began his story anew. Louis rolled his eyes. Couldn't that boy tell a simple, harmless, white lie? Just this once? But it didn't matter. The security guard impatiently waved them through.

They entered another hallway, apparently leading into the stadium outside. Louis and Harry followed the throng of girls until they passed a corded off corridor. "I bet that'll get us backstage," Harry said. He pulled on Louis's arm and ducked down under the thick rope. Louis quickly followed. It might just be a dead end, but they had to try.

Harry's instincts turned out to be right, and soon they found themselves in an area of several connected rooms, which seemed to serve as change and make-up rooms as well as staff kitchen and dining area. Several people moved around with purpose, carrying equipment, cables, lights or food. Someone's toddler was running giggling up and down the hallway. Harry looked ready to grab the child, so Louis took his hand and held it tight. No time for distractions.

It was strange to the point of surreal, but no-one questioned their right to be backstage. Maybe they looked like they belonged, somehow. Until Louis was stopped by a firm hand on his arm. Reluctantly, he turned around, only to find himself face to face with Nick. He released a tense breath. Had Nick always been this tall?

"Louis! What are you doing here? How did you get in?" Nick looked him up and down, his eyes briefly resting on Louis's hand entwined with Harry's. "It's been ages...why didn't you ever answer our texts?"

Ben appeared at Nick's shoulder, his bright blue eyes glittering. "Louis!" He gave Louis a huge grin. Startled, Louis smiled back. For two years, he had been wondering what it would be like to see his old friends again, but he hadn't been prepared for this huge wave of tangled emotions: happy excitement, hurt, nostalgia and regret. Mostly regret. Why had he waited this long to get back in touch with them?

"And who's your friend?" Ben smiled at Harry.

Harry grinned back, hand outstretched. "Harry Styles, Louis's boyfriend." Louis's breath hitched at that, but his attention turned immediately back to Nick.

"I'm sorry. I always meant to contact you, but then you guys became so crazy famous, and I figured..." Louis left the rest of the thought unvoiced. It wasn't the real reason anyway, and Nick would know that as well.

"We really should talk." Nick's eyes on Louis were intense. He ran his hand through his longish hair. "This is just not a great time. We're supposed to rehearse for our charity show, and the radio sent a bunch of girls to watch. Also, a film crew. So I should get going."

Ben gave Nick a look. The kind couples gave each other to communicate without talking. "We have a few minutes." He pointedly pried Harry from Louis's arm. "Come on, Harry, I'll show you around, while these two get over themselves."

Nick and Louis stood for a moment shuffling their boots while Ben animatedly chatted with  
Harry. “So,” Louis broke the uncomfortable silence, “are the two of you still…”

Nick cleared his throat. “Ben and I? Yeah, we’re still together. Don’t tell anyone, though, it’s top secret.”

Louis chuckled. “Right, you’re dating that actress. Officially. Does that bother you?” he asked, recalling Harry’s earlier words.

Nick just shrugged, but he didn’t look too happy. He kept glancing to the seating area, where Ben and Harry sat together. Ben was rifling through a box, handing Harry what looked like band merchandise. Harry wore a thrilled smile, listening to Ben with an intent expression. Louis smirked. Ben always had been the charismatic one, which was a bit wasted, with him behind the drums.

“And how long have the two of you been dating?” Nick’s voice sounded strained, as if it pained him to stand here and make small talk. _Too bad_.

“Uhm, a week or so.” Had it really only been that long? It already felt like he had known Harry forever.

“A week.” Nick let out a sour laugh. “I see.” But then he was silent again, not sharing with Louis what it was he saw.

Louis suppressed a sigh. Apparently, after two years, they had nothing to say to each other. Suddenly Louis felt exhausted. “So anyway, remember my three sisters?” It was a stupid question, as Nick had been going in and out of Louis’s house as if it was his own home for many years. He had read bedtime stories to Lorelei and pulled on Lexi’s pigtails. He had teased Liberty about her boyfriends. But Nick’s detached manner annoyed Louis, and sarcasm was his favorite defense. “Really not sure why, but they’re huge fans of Heart Infection. They even like the music.” Louis smirked up at Nick, whose face didn’t give anything away. “The concert’s sold out, as you probably know, so I was wondering if you could…”

“Are you nuts?” Nick interrupted. His eyes flared dark blue and his words came out in a low hiss. “Two years without a word from you. Didn’t give me a chance to explain, to work things out, or at least have some sort of closure. And not just me, you leave the whole band hanging. Ben…you were his best friend since Kindergarten. You just tossed everything away, like all those years meant nothing to you.”

“I beg your pardon?” Louis’s hands curled into fists. He didn’t believe his ears. Nick was angry at him? How dare he. “You mean you and Ben tossed all that away, by fucking in our bed, in our apartment. That wasn’t my idea. And if you wanted to talk and explain…you had plenty of time to do that before you started up with Ben.”

Nick folded his arms across his chest. “All you cared about was your music. It was impossible to talk to you. And then you just disappeared. Stop being completely selfish for a moment, if you can, and imagine how that was for us. Ben was wrecked with guilt for months.”

Louis opened his mouth, then shut it again. His gaze drew automatically to Ben, who looked the very definition of happiness. No wonder, with a giggling Harry beside him. Darkness squeezed Louis’s heart as he realized how inadequate a boyfriend he was. Apparently he had been pretty useless in the past, but now he was also on the brink of financial disaster, with the loss of his business and home lurking around the corner. Harry should be with someone like Ben, someone happy and successful.

Louis looked back at Nick, aching too much to speak. He had been right to break off contact completely. It hurt to listen to Nick, blaming Louis for everything that had gone wrong between them. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

“If you’re waiting for me to apologize, you’re wasting your time.” Louis’s voice was rough and low. “I’m sorry how it ended between us, yeah? But I didn’t bring it all down. That was you.”

Louis’s eyes blurred his vision, and he quickly dashed past Nick and strode off the way he had come in. His heart beat rapidly against his ribs and his stomach contracted into a tiny ball of pain. What had he expected? That Nick had been pining for him to return? A heartfelt apology? An offer of a revenue percentage? In any case, it hadn’t been festering resentment and blame. What had Nick to be angry about, anyway? He had ended up with Ben, and fame and fortune, not Louis. Louis would get beaten up daily living in the Ultrablocks, and eating out of trash cans. He wiped his eyes as he returned to the brightly lit lobby. Slowly his breath was evening out. He sank onto a metal bench, head in his hands, when Harry jogged around the bend, a bunch of goodies pressed to his chest.

“What happened?” he panted. “Why did you run off like that?”

Louis rose to meet him. He just wanted to get home. “I’ll tell you in the car.” The drizzle outside had grown into a steady downpour, and they made a mad dash to Harry’s car. Once Harry had the motor started and the windows set to defog, he turned again to Louis.

“I guess it didn’t go too well with Nick then? Ben seemed really nice.”

Louis rolled his eyes, not caring if he looked childish. “I bet. But he was probably only flirting with you to annoy Nick, so don’t get your hopes up.”

Harry’s green eyes widened. “What are you talking about? We weren’t flirting.”

“Right.” Louis let out an unpleasant snort. “Can you please just drop me off at home? I need to find out how my mum and sisters are doing.” Harry drove without another word.

On the way, Louis marveled at his talent for messing up relationships. But if he left Harry now it wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as if they broke up years from now, right? So maybe that was the way to go.

When Harry pulled his car to a stop in front of Louis’s house, he put his hand on Louis’s arm. “I know you’re upset right now, and I understand. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

Louis nodded, tired and defeated. Sure, another day wouldn’t make a difference. He reached for the door handle, but Harry drew him back and straight into a searing hot kiss. Louis sank into it, letting the sweet taste of Harry’s lips remove some of his anger and disappointment. When they parted, the warm glow in Harry’s emerald eyes was back.

“I almost forgot.” He reached into the pocket of his tight jeans, pulled something out and handed it to Louis. Three VIP tickets to Heart Infection’s charity concert. Louis stared at them as if they had appeared by magic.

“Ben gave them to me,” Harry explained. “Just in case Nick wouldn’t. I guess he knows his boyfriend pretty well.”

Louis drew in a sharp breath. “Thanks, Harry. And I’m sorry about what I said earlier…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said quickly. “This wasn’t the best of days for you. But at least you have the tickets now. And we’ll work on your other problems next, one at a time. Right?”

 

 

  **(14)**

 

Inside the house, all was quiet. Louis found Lexi on the couch, reading. She beamed when she saw him.

“Louis! You’re back. Now I can go to bed.”

Louis frowned. “Why were you waiting up? Where’s Liberty? And Lorelei?”

Lexi bounced on her toes. “I made supper and put Lorelei to bed. She’s already asleep. Libby had to go back to the hospital, so she said I could be in charge tonight.”

Louis groaned. Lexi and Lorelei were much too young to stay home alone. Why hadn’t Liberty called him? But when he pulled out his phone, he saw that the battery was dead. He sent Lexi to bed and went into his bedroom to plug his phone in. Ten missed calls flashed across his screen. And many, many texts. One from Zayn, telling him his bike was fixed, and a whole bunch from Liberty. Louis dialed her number, trepidation pooling acid in his stomach.

Liberty answered right away. “Louis! I’m so sorry, I know I promised to never leave the girls home alone, but the lady from three doors down was busy, and Mum was anxious and wanted me to stay, but the girls were hungry and tired and I just couldn’t reach you…”

Louis heard tears in her voice, which scared him more than anything. Liberty was always strong and in control.

“What’s wrong with Mum?”

Liberty sniffed and collected herself. “We don’t know yet. The doctors did blood and urine tests today, and tomorrow they want to do this kind of scan that’s better than the one they did last time…they explained it to me, but I can’t really remember. I’m just so worried. They wouldn’t do an expensive test like that if they didn’t think there was something really wrong, would they?”

“I don’t know, Libby, I’m not a doctor.” Louis chewed on his thumb nail. He wanted to reassure his sister, but the heavy dread in his guts wouldn’t let him. “Will they let you stay the night there?”

“Yeah. You’re home now? Can you bring the girls back here after breakfast?”

Louis agreed and they disconnected. Liberty tried her best, but she couldn’t be expected to juggle the girls, her school work and their sick mum, so Louis would have to help. He’d have to tell Zayn that he needed some time off.

The next day consisted of a lot of babysitting, then switching off with Liberty at the hospital. His mum looked the same as always, sick and fragile. But she smiled at him and told him not to worry so much. Easier said than done.

Doctors passed through now and then, but they never had much to say beyond, _let’s wait for the test results_. Patience wasn’t Louis’s strong suit, so he paced up and down his mum’s small room, and after she sent him out, up and down the corridors. That’s where Harry found him in the late afternoon.

“Hiiiii.” Green eyes blazed down at him over a room-brightening smile. Louis’s tension drained almost instantly. He gave Harry a quick hug. Harry gave the best hugs, really. And Louis realized, even in his exhausted, worried state, that he wanted more. He wanted to be all wrapped up in Harry until there was nothing else.

After Louis updated Harry on his mother’s health, they sat on a couch in a small waiting area. Harry took Louis’s hand and held it tight.

“The other lads and I came up with an idea on how to get Eleanor back together with Max.” His smile twitched up a notch with excitement. “I think it might just work, and then you don’t have to worry about the rent money anymore.”

“Oh? That would be good.” Louis glanced back along the hallway, where a doctor had just entered his mother’s room. _News?_

“Do you want to hear it?”

Louis swiveled back to Harry. “Hear what?”

“The plan? About Eleanor?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” But out of the corner of his eyes, he watched that door. He should be in there with his mum. That’s why he was here to begin with.

“So, remember that song we wrote the other night?” Harry hesitantly continued. “Night Changes? What if we could get Heart Infection to sing that during the concert? We know Eleanor will be there, and we could ask them to dedicate the song to her from Max.”

At the mention of Heart Infection, Louis’s eyes narrowed. There was no way he was going back to talk to Nick again. What was Harry thinking?

Noticing Louis’s annoyance, Harry spoke a bit faster. “She said she missed the romantic gestures Max made for her when they were first dating. What could be more romantic than to have your favorite band sing a song especially for you at a huge concert?”

Louis had to admit that it was pretty romantic. “But,” he added, “There are still some major flaws in this plan. First of all, the song isn’t finished. Second, why would Heart Infection sing a song they didn’t write to a girl they don’t know? I hope you’re not counting on me to convince them. I couldn’t even get tickets out of Nick.”

As the doctor left his mother’s room and approached them, Louis let go of Harry’s hand and rose. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but this won’t work. And I can’t really deal with Max and his shit right now anyway. I have much bigger worries than losing my business.”

The doctor asked to speak to Louis in private, and Harry left, with great reluctance and promises to phone later on that night.

Louis found out that day that his mother had an infection in her blood, which affected all of her organs. The nurses hooked her up on a drip of strong antibiotics, but the specialist was also considering a series of blood transfusions. Which meant more tests followed by more waiting.

In the evening, Harry called, trying to convince Louis to come to Liam’s house to finish their song. Louis missed Harry already, and would have liked the diversion, even though he still thought that Harry’s plan sucked. But he had promised Liberty already that he would sit with his mum tonight, and even Harry had to concede that family came first.

Louis spent the next couple of days in much the same way, switching between looking after his youngest sisters and spending time with his mother in the hospital. There seemed to be a slow, gradual change for the better in terms of his mother’s energy. She also was in less pain than before and could even sit up for short periods. The doctors were cautiously hopeful that the treatment was working.

Harry came to visit for short periods at a time, as did Zayn. Thursday afternoon, Harry, Zayn, Liam and Niall all showed up together, Niall carrying his acoustic guitar. They had finished Night Changes, and wanted to play it for Louis and his mum. They all crowded into the small hospital room and Niall tuned his guitar.

They all took turns singing, then came together for the chorus, sounding amazing. Louis’s mother had tears in her eyes when they finished and Louis’s chest was tight with an unidentifiable emotion. Then Harry insisted that Louis sang it with them. Niall even handed him the guitar. Having been part of the initial creation process, Louis found it easy to figure out the guitar part, and the words weren’t hard to memorize either. Harry declared that with Louis, they sounded much, much better than without him, which made Louis blush, especially when all the other boys agreed.

Harry stayed behind for a moment after the others left. Louis, who knew his way around the ward pretty well by now, pulled him along to a tiny broom closet. When they were sure no-one was looking, they squeezed into the small space, Harry giggling into Louis’s ear.

Louis hadn’t been alone with Harry all week, and couldn’t wait to get his hands on him. Harry seemed to feel the same way, as he threw his arms around Louis’s neck and rubbed his groin against him. Louis pulled Harry’s face closer and kissed those soft lips, at first gently and almost shy, but when Harry responded with passion, Louis let go of all restraint as well. Harry moaned and yanked Louis’s pants open, sliding his hand inside. When his fingers curled around Louis’s dick, Louis threw his head back, bonking against the sturdy closet door.

His eyes connected with Harry’s green ones, which were giving him such a look of infatuation and longing that Louis’s heart ached.

“I missed you,” he said, swiping a hand through the lovely curls. “Harry.”

Harry’s face lit up even more. “I missed you too.” Then he pressed his whole body close to Louis and they kissed each other breathless. Harry’s hand snuck down between their bodies and pushed first Louis’s pants down and then his own. “I need to feel you,” he whispered as he lined up their cocks and wrapped his large hand around both of them together. Louis drew in a sharp breath. Pleasure darted through his entire body at Harry’s touch. When Harry began to slide his hand up and down their shafts, Louis made some embarrassingly needy moans, which Harry soaked up with another long, sloppy kiss.

It was over much too soon. Harry climaxed first, but Louis wasn’t far behind. Their combined jizz flooded over Louis’s stomach, then slowly dripped down. Harry laughed at the mess. He took off the T-shirt he wore under his button-up and wiped himself and Louis down.

Louis leaned against the door, catching his breath. His legs were shaky and his whole body felt as if filled with a thick warm liquid. Once Harry was dressed, Louis pulled him close once more.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered into his ear. “I’m so glad I found you.”

Harry smiled. “You mean that you broke up with me…”

Louis frowned in confusion until he recalled their first meeting. Then he laughed. “Right.”

“Look,” Harry said. “I still think that we should go ahead with our plan for Eleanor. The song sounds great—she’ll love it.”

Louis just shook his head. He was so happy with Harry that he didn’t want to argue again. But without Nick on their side, the plan—and the song--were useless.

As if reading Louis’s mind, Harry said, “I already spoke to Ben, and he agreed to talk to Nick about it.”

Louis stared at him. “You spoke to Ben? How? When?”

“Yesterday.” Harry stuck his chin out defiantly. “He gave me his number when we went to the LondonDome,  so I called him.”

Louis was glad he was still leaning against the door for balance. "Okay. Alright. But the concert is Friday night...tomorrow. That doesn't leave much time."

Harry shrugged. "Ben said it would be best to just show up tomorrow before they go on stage, and he'd make sure that security would let us through."

Louis didn't like the idea of meeting Nick again so soon, but Harry had gone through a lot to set this plan in motion, so Louis reluctantly agreed.

 

 

**(15)**

 

Louis's mum was discharged the next morning. The girls were giddy at having their mum home, and Louis felt less tense as well. He didn't put too much faith into Harry's plan, but perhaps his luck had changed for the better. Or maybe it was just the joy of being with Harry that was making everything look brighter.

Liberty had been shocked speechless when Louis had presented her with the concert tickets. All three girls had hugged him and declared him the best brother ever. On Friday, the girls left the house hours before the concert was set to begin, for reasons Louis couldn't quite follow. Perhaps they wanted to check out the band merchandise.

Harry had told Louis he'd pick him up so they could go together, but Louis suspected that it was so he couldn't chicken out at the last minute. Zayn, Liam and Niall were going to meet them at the LondonDome. They were excited to hear their song played for such a huge audience. Louis had told them not to get their hopes up, but no-one had listened to him.

When Harry rang the doorbell, Louis was ready to go. All afternoon he had psyched himself up for another unpleasant encounter with his ex, and now he wanted to get it over with. He stepped outside and wrapped Harry into a tight embrace, which quickly morphed into making out. Harry finally pulled away, laughing.

"There's no time, Lou. We have to get going. I don't want us to be late."

"Then we should take my bike." Louis pointed to his beloved bike which gleamed in the soft light of dusk. "It can take some shortcuts a car can't." He winked at Harry. "Plus, it's not raining for once." In fact, it was an unusually lovely night, more summer than fall, with a spicy, invigorating scent lacing the balmy air.

Harry beamed at him and nodded. "Let's do it!"

Louis went to get his spare helmet, and moments later they sped down the road in the light of the setting sun. Harry's arms wound tight around Louis's waist, his upper body pressed into Louis. A light, unfamiliar emotion spread through Louis and it took him a second to realize: he was happy. No matter what happened with his business and money and all, right now he was completely at ease, content, happy. He smiled.

When they reached the LondonDome, total chaos greeted them. Louis hadn't known that there were this many teenaged girls living in the city. And they all seemed to be on some kind of sugar rush, yelling, screaming and crying. They pushed against each other and against the security gates, as if their lives depended on getting through that entrance.

Louis texted Zayn to see where they were. It took a while to meet up. Not sure which entrance to use and how to get in without tickets, Harry called Ben. Still talking on his phone, he motioned the others to follow him. They went around the side of the building until they came to an inconspicuous looking door marked Staff Only. Harry knocked on it and it opened. Louis frowned at the ease of it. If only those thousands of girls knew about this trick.

They slipped through the door. A burly security guard examined Harry's ID and double checked everybody else's name through his headset. After they were cleared (by Ben, presumably), the man led them through the now somewhat familiar maze of corridors to the backstage area. Liam, Zayn and Niall exchanged excited looks. Louis took deep breaths to keep the thought at bay that he had once been an integral part of Heart Infection, and that he had left the band voluntarily. Experiencing their massive success close-up, it seemed the most idiotic decision he had ever made.

But I have Harry, he reminded himself. That's even better than being rich and famous. And if I'd stayed with the band, I would never have met him.

As if reading his mind once again, Harry turned around and took his hand. He nestled his nose close to Louis's ear and whispered, "It's going to be fine, you'll see." His radiant smile was infectious.

And there was his band. His former band. Or at least three of them, he couldn't see Nick. The others cheered when they saw Louis, and came up to greet him. Ben stuck out his hand hesitantly, a sheepish look on his face. But seeing his old friends, Louis couldn't believe he had let so much time go by without contacting any of them. Ben had been his best friend for most of his life, and Louis now pulled him into a hug. Ben laughed and hugged him back.

"So glad to see you, man," he said in a low voice. "We've missed you."

“Yeah, me too,” Louis admitted, then asked, “Where’s Nick?”

Ben exchanged a conspiratorial look with Harry. “Nick’s just visiting with three ladies in our VIP section. He’ll be here soon.”

At Louis’s baffled expression, Harry said, “he means your sisters. He wanted to make sure they have the best seats available.”

Louis was trying hard not to get too emotional, and was about to make a dumb joke, when Harry interrupted. He showed Ben their song, but Ben only gave it quick glance.

"Looks great, Harry. The instruments are all set up, so go on." He made a shooing motion towards the direction of the stage.

"What do you mean?" Louis's voice echoed dully in his ears as if he were under water. "Are you going to play our song or not?"

"No," Ben said with a grin. "We're not. It's not our song, and we don't do covers."

Louis let out a long breath, his heart suddenly a heavy lump in his chest. If he hadn't gotten his hopes up, then why did he feel so disappointed?

"Instead," Ben cheerfully continued, "you guys are going to get your butts out there and play your own song." He leaned into Louis. "Don't worry, it's just like riding a bike. You'll feel right at home."

Two years ago Louis had stood on stage almost every weekend, sometimes two or three times. But never with an audience of thousands, never mind tens of thousands. Never in a stadium like the LondonDome.

"Harry!" Zayn stage whispered. "Did you know about this?" Harry's brilliant smile was answer enough.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Niall moaned.

"Save that for later." Liam gripped his arm as if Niall might bolt. Which was a fair assumption.

Dazed, Louis followed Harry, trying not to think about what they were going to do. Else he'd be utterly overwhelmed. This was going to be such a huge disaster. But it was as unstoppable as an oncoming bullet train.

The stage was vast and very bright. Several young men in matching black T-shirts helped them to get organized, to find the instruments and microphones they needed. Liam settled in behind the drums, and Harry commandeered a keyboard, which he carried to the font, next to Louis.

Louis briefly considered that they had only practiced singing together one afternoon in the hospital, and never with mics, that most of them had never sung on stage, that this stage was unsettlingly large and set up for a different band entirely, and that the audience would probably hate them, if only because they weren't Heart Infection.

The audience suddenly broke into screams, sending a jolt down Louis's spine and his heart racing. Then he saw what had the crowd so excited: Nick, carrying a guitar, was sauntering up the stage, waving to his fans. He wore his trademark long, green coat and heeled boots. Louis stared at him. He couldn't decide whether Nick looked like a rock god or an arrogant asshole. But the sight of him, even after all this time, still hurt, so he instinctively turned to Harry, who stood on the other side of him, fiddling with the microphone attached to his keyboard.

"Hello New London!" Nick yelled. The audience responded with earthquake-inducing noise. Nick continued by asking the masses of people how they were tonight, then making them repeat their answer. Louis felt a rush of nostalgia at the familiarity of the ritual. Keeping up banter with the fans, Nick made his way towards them.

"Now I have a very special treat for you. My old friend Louis and his mates are going to play a brand new song, written just for this occasion. Requested by Max and dedicated to Eleanor, the love of his life. Eleanor, where are you?" Spotlights danced across the VIP section until they focused on the blushing brunette, who stood and waved.

With the crowd still gawping at Eleanor, Nick walked to Louis, covering his microphone. "Remember this?" he said in a low voice and held out the guitar he was carrying. Louis's breath hitched in his throat. Of course he remembered. It was his own Fender Stratocaster, after all, the one he had left behind along with everything else. He nearly snatched it out of Nick's hands. His baby.

He ran a hand over the strings, smiling up at Nick. "You kept it in good shape."

"I never played it," Nick said. "I just held on to it for you."

For a moment, they just looked at each other, then Louis nodded. "Thanks."

Nick turned back to the audience. "And now, for the first time live here at the LondonDome, listen to Night Changes!"

The fans cheered, but they would have cheered even if Nick had advocated pushing old ladies into puddles. Then silence descended, and all Louis could hear was the hammering of his heart. Behind him, somewhere to his left on the grand stage, Niall counted, "one, two, three," and Harry began the song's intro on his keyboard. After a moment, Zayn began to sing, and his perfect voice rose over the stadium, drawing the audience in. His face suddenly appeared on a huge screen to the side of the stage, which made the audience cheer. Louis smirked. For sure, good looks never hurt a singer.

Then Liam sang his part, followed by Harry singing the first chorus alone. He sounded just lovely to Louis, so sincere and caring. They smiled at each other, Harry singing to him as if he were the only person in the world. But then Louis had to focus on his own solo, which the guys had kept mercifully short, as he had hardly practiced. He was so glad for the guitar in his arms, he would have felt so awkward and naked without it. Before Louis realized it, they had reached the final chorus, where all their different voices came together. He felt his chest lighten. No matter how their song had sounded to the audience, and no matter if it had been romantic enough a gesture for Eleanor to return to Max, in the end, those things didn't matter all this much. He was standing on the stage of the LondonDome, with his friends--with Harry--and this experience would stay with him, always.

When Harry finished that last note, the audience roared. And screamed. And screeched. A couple of girls had to be pulled out of the pushing crowd before they fainted. Louis tried to find Eleanor in the audience again, to see her reaction. But the stage lights were too bright in his eyes, and he couldn't make her out.

Then Nick was back, getting the crowd to cheer and clap for Night Changes once more. Before Louis loped off the stage, shell shocked and flooded with endorphins at the same time, Nick took his arm. "That was really good, Louis. Welcome back." He leaned closer. "Stay for the show, you and your band. I made sure there are seats for you all to sit with your sisters."

Louis followed Harry, who walked near the edge of the stage, throwing kisses to the fans in the front. Louis had to grin: Harry was born to the stage. What a cute coincidence.

Stage staff gathered them together and led them to their seats. Liberty, Lexi and Lorelei hugged Louis with loud squeals. Louis's heart floated with pride, especially since Heart Infection had taken over the stage in the meantime, but he was the one getting their attention.

"We met Nick!" Lexi babbled excitedly. "He gave us a whole bunch of cool stuff."

"You've met Nick lots of times before," Louis said. Lexi was old enough to remember two years ago, when he still had been part of the band.

"But he wasn't cool then." Lexi bounced on her chair. "Are you going back to Heart Infection now that you made up with Nick?"

Louis took Harry's hand, who had sat down on his other side. He had not considered that possibility at all. He had been so angry at the band for so long that it had become a habit. Now he could at least imagine renewing old friendships. But the only way was forwards in life, not backwards.

"I have my own band now, Lexi," he said. He squeezed Harry's hand. "And they're fantastic."

 

 

**(Epilogue)**

 

"Life is strange, isn't it?" Louis asked Harry, while struggling with his tie, which was apparently trying to strangle him. He stood in front of the full length mirror in their bedroom.

"Huh?" Harry lifted his eyes from polishing his new dress shoes. "Oh, let me help with that." He jumped up and snuggled into Louis under the pretense of straightening his tie. Louis ran his lips along Harry's jaw, licking and kissing. Harry, predictably, giggled und ducked away. "No time for that. We can't be late for the red carpet."

"That's exactly what I mean," Louis said. "Six months ago, I was a delivery boy at the brink of destitution. I was bitter and wearing a panda suit." That made Harry giggle even more.

"Do you still have it?" he asked. "You should wear it for me some time. You know, in private."

Louis glared at him. "Are you even listening? I was just about to say something poignant and touching."

"Oh, you can poke and touch me later." Harry grinned. At Louis's pout, he turned serious. "Come on, what were you going to say?" He untangled Louis's tie and began to redo it.

"Just how fast life changes, sometimes. I mean look at us. Getting all dressed up for our very first award show. We're nominated for best New London debut artist! And all because Max wanted Eleanor back."

"Well, that worked out at least." Harry gave the tie a final tug and smiled down at his boyfriend. Louis pushed up on his toes and stole a quick kiss.

A recording of their performance at the LondonDome had gone viral online in the days after the event. Everyone had been curious about Eleanor and Max, who became at bit famous in their own right. And the demand for Night Changes to become available for purchase was so huge, that the boys could pick and choose their label and management. Nick and Ben were incredibly helpful in giving advice regarding contracts, and Liam's knowledge of the law came in handy as well.

Even though Max withdrew his law suit against them, Louis and Zayn decided to close their shop and commit to the band full time. With the small advance they got from their record label, Louis could ensure that his mum and sisters didn't lose their home. Louis, however, moved in with Harry.

The only problem left had been to decide on a name for their band. Everyone had ideas, but nothing really clicked. Until Harry pointed out that it was the break-up agency that had brought them all together. Louis had groaned that No Sad Big Smile was a silly name for a band. Zayn had suggested to shorten it to No Sad.

And Harry had given them all his most charming smile.

"How about this: No Sad Ever."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all my readers, especially to those taking the time for kudos or comments. It's much appreciated!


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